LIBRARY 

Connecticut  Agricultural  College 

yo_L- /_eJL.D_6 . 

CLASS_Nq^ i.illl— -£.j51/ 

COST J_5S. 

DATE. Ql&^...V.S:. l^^± 


BOOK    150. F5  1    C.I 

FIRTH    #    MACHINERY    OF    MIND 


3  T153  00003377  1 


THE  MACHINERY  OF 
THE  MIND 


THE  MACHINERY 
OF  THE  MIND 


BY 

VIOLET  M.  FIRTH 


WITH  A  FOREWORD  BY 

A.  G.  TANSLEY,  F.  R.  S. 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 

1922 


Copyright  1922 
By  DODD.  mead  AND  COMPANY,  Inc. 


18706 


PRINTED    IN    THE    U.   S.   A.   BY 

tIEbe  ^uinn  &  ?Boben  Companp 

BOOK      MANUFACTURERS 
RAHWAY  NEW     JERSEY 


FOREWORD 

I  AM  very  glad  to  have  the  opportunity  of  com- 
mending this  little  volume  to  those  without  any 
previous  knowledge  who  desire  to  gain  a  clear  idea 
of  the  way  in  which  modern  psychology  regards 
the  human  mind. 

For  every  time  the  words  "  psychology "  and 
"  psychological "  were  used  in  the  newspapers  ten 
years  ago,  they  must  be  used  fifty  times  to-day; 
and  though  very  often  some  other  word  would  do 
just  as  well,  or  a  good  deal  better,  this  sudden  vogue 
has  a  real  meaning.  The  public  has  become  aware 
of  the  existence  of  psychology:  people  are  begin- 
ning to  realise  that  the  human  mind,  the  instrument 
by  which  we  know  and  think  and  feel  and  strive, 
must  itself  be  studied  for  its  own  sake  if  we  are  to 
gain  a  deeper  understanding  and  a  greater  control 
of  human  life. 

A  distinct  reaction  from  the  rather  narrow  ma- 
terialism of  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  and  the 
beginning  of  the  twentieth  centuries,  an  increased 
realisation  of  immaterial,  of  "  spiritual,"  values,  has 
helped  towards  giving  the  mind  its  rightful  place 
in  human  interest.  On  the  one  hand,  modern  aca- 
demic psychology  has   for  many  years  now  been 


6  FOREWORD 

gradually  emancipating  itself  from  the  chaotic  sub- 
jectivities of  competing  philosophies,  and  develop- 
ing on  really  scientific  lines,  with  the  aid  of  accu- 
rate observation,  comparison  and  experiment.  Its 
genuinely  and  increasingly  useful  applications  to 
education  and  to  industry  are  evidences  of  that. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  remarkable  results  of 
psychoanalysis  have  been  made  widely  known, 
though  often  with  that  misleading  one-sided  em- 
phasis which  seems  fated  to  attend  the  popularisa- 
tion of  any  branch  of  scientific  enquiry.  And  these 
results  have  been  found  not  only  interesting  but  ex- 
citing— to  some  morbidly  exciting — because  they 
appeal  to  instincts  and  emotions  which  our  civilisa- 
tion represses  and  often  perverts.  Psychoanalysis 
has  indeed  become  a  fashionable  craze,  and  as  such 
has  doubtless  done  a  certain  amount  of  harm  and 
has  met  with  a  good  deal  of  opprobrium  from  the 
serious-minded.  But  psychoanalysis  has  come  to 
stay,  because,  however  much  it  may  be  misused  by 
the  ignorant,  the  unbalanced  and  the  half-educated, 
it  is  both  a  sound  technique  of  research  and  a  sound 
therapeutic  method.  And  it  certainly  has  a  most 
important  contribution  to  make  to  the  psychology 
of  the  future. 

This  little  book,  which  can  be  read  through  at 
a  sitting,  succeeds  in  the  difiicult  task  of  presenting 
the  rudiments  of  the  modern  view  of  the  mind  in 
an  easy,  lucid  and  attractive  form.    Though  I  may 


FOREWORD  7 

not  agree  with  every  sentence  she  has  written,  Miss 
Firth's  development  of  the  subject,  and  of  its  very 
intimate  connexion  with  human  hfe  and  human 
troubles,  seems  to  me  not  only  substantially  sound 
and  accurate,  but  essentially  sane  and  well  bal- 
anced. Her  explanation  of  the  different  levels  of 
the  mind  and  of  the  "  censors  "  by  the  metaphor  of 
the  tank  and  the  sieves  is  particularly  ingenious  and 
helpful.  The  book  will  certainly  succeed,  to  use  the 
author's  words,  in  "  planting  certain  fundamental 
concepts  in  untrained  minds  so  that  they  may  serve 
as  a  basis  for  future  studies." 

A.  G.  TANSLEY. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

FOREWORD  BY  A.   G.   TANSLEY        .  .  5 

INTRODUCTION II 

I.     THE      PHYSICAL      VEHICLE      OF      CON- 
SCIOUSNESS   15 

XL     THE     EVOLUTION     OF     THE     NERVOUS 

SYSTEM 18 

III.  HOW  AN  IDEA  ENTERS  THE  MIND         .  20 

IV.  THE    ORGANISATION     OF     THE     UPPER 

LEVELS  OF  THE  MIND        .  .  .  22 

V.     THE    ORGANISATION    OF    THE    LOWER 

LEVELS  OF  THE  MIND        ...  27 

VI.     COMPLEXES  31 

VIL     THE    INSTINCTS 35 

VIIL     THE    SELF-PRESERVATION    INSTINCT    .  39 
IX.     DISEASES  OF  THE   SELF-PRESERVATION 

INSTINCT 42 

X.     THE  REPRODUCTIVE   INSTINCT       .  .  44 

XI.     DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  REPRODUCTIVE 

INSTINCT 46 

XIL     DISEASES    OF    THE    REPRODUCTIVE    IN- 
STINCT           49 

XIIL     SUBLIMATION  .  .  .  .  .  52 

XIV.     MALADAPTATION      TO      ENVIRONMENT 

AND  PSYCHOPATHOLOGY   ...  56 

9 


10  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XV.     CONFLICT 60 

XVI.     REPRESSION 63 

XVII.     DISSOCIATION 66 

XVIII.     SYMBOLISATION 69 

XIX.  PHANTASIES,  DREAMS,  AND  DELUSIONS  7 1 

XX.  PSYCHOTHERAPY  ...           .76 
XXL  PSYCHOANALYSIS              ....  78 

XXIL  HYPNOSIS,     SUGGESTION,     AND     AUTO- 
SUGGESTION           84 

XXIII.  THE  PRACTICAL  APPLICATION  OF  PSY- 

CHOLOGY       89 

XXIV.  CONCLUSION 93 


INTRODUCTION 

Originally  given  as  a  popular  lecture  course,  this 
little  book  does  not  pretend  to  be  a  contribution  to 
the  formidable  array  of  psychological  literature.  It 
is  intended  for  those  who  have  neither  the  time 
nor  the  training  necessary  to  assimilate  the  standard 
works  on  the  subject,  but  who  want  to  know  its 
elements ;  and  to  understand  the  principles  on  which 
our  characters  are  formed  and  the  means  by  which 
the  process  of  thought  is  carried  on,  not  so  much 
from  the  scholastic  point  of  view,  as  in  relation  to 
the  problems  of  everyday  life. 

It  is  hoped  that  many  will  find  herein  the  key  to 
things  that  have  puzzled  them  in  their  own  natures, 
for  only  those  who  hold  such  unsolved  problems  in 
their  hearts  can  know  how  crippling  and  tormenting 
they  are. 

This  book  does  not  aim  so  much  at  an  orderly 
setting  forth  of  the  elements  of  psychology  as  at 
planting  certain  fundamental  concepts  in  untrained 
minds  so  that  they  may  serve  as  a  basis  for  future 
studies.  To  this  end  the  writer  has  adopted  a  pic- 
torial, almost  diagrammatic  method  of  presentation 
in  order  that  a  framework  of  general  ideas  may  be 

formed   into   which   details   may   subsequently   be 

11 


12  INTRODUCTION 

fitted,  having  found  this  to  be  the  best  way  to  con- 
vey novel  concepts  to  minds  untrained  in  meta- 
physical subtleties. 

The  teachings  of  no  special  school  of  psychology 
are  adhered  to;  the  writer  is  indebted  to  all,  but 
loyal  to  none,  holding  that  in  the  absence  of  any 
accepted  standard  of  authority  in  psychological 
science  each  student  must  review  the  doctrines  of- 
fered for  his  adherence  in  the  light  of  his  own  ex- 
perience. 

This  book  is  essentially  practical  in  aim,  written 
in  response  to  a  practical  need.  In  her  experience 
of  remedial  psychology,  the  writer  saw  that  many 
cases  of  mental  and  nervous  trouble  would  never 
have  developed  if  their  victims  had  had  an  elemen- 
tary knowledge  of  the  workings  of  the  mind;  she 
also  found  that  many  patients  required  nothing  but 
an  explanation  of  these  principles  to  put  them  on 
the  road  to  recovery,  and  that  even  when  more  than 
this  was  needed  to  effect  a  cure,  such  a  knowledge 
greatly  expedited  the  treatment  by  enabling  the  pa- 
tient to  co-operate  intelligently. 

So  far  as  she  is  aware,  there  is  no  booTc  that 
deals  with  psychopathology,  not  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  student,  but  from  that  of  the  patient  who 
needs  an  elementary  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  the 
mind  in  order  to  enable  him  to  think  hygienicaJly. 
This  book  is  written  to  fulfil  that  need;  it  is  not 
only  applicable,  however,  to  those  who  are  sick  in 


INTRODUCTION  13 

mind  or  estate,  but  to  those  also  who  desire  to 
develop  their  latent  capacities  by  means  of  the  prac- 
tical application  of  the  laws  of  thought  and  char- 
acter. 


The  Machinery  of  the  Mind 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  PHYSICAL  VEHICLE  OF  CONSCIOUS- 
NESS 

In  order  to  arrive  at  an  adequate  understanding  of 
mental  processes  it  is  necessary  to  have  some  idea  of 
the  machinery  whereby  the  mind  makes  contact  with 
the  body. 

Throughout  every  inch  of  our  organism  is  a  net- 
work of  speciahsed  fibres  whose  function  it  is  to 
carry  nervous  impulses  from  the  sense  organs  to  the 
central  nervous  system  of  brain  and  spinal  cord,  and 
from  thence  out  again  to  the  muscles,  glands,  and 
other  organs  of  reaction.  The  sense  organs  act  as 
receivers  of  sensation,  the  nerve  fibres  as  transmit- 
ters, the  central  nervous  system  as  a  general  tele- 
phone exchange,  and  the  muscles,  glands,  and  or- 
gans as  the  executants  of  the  impulses  of  the  mind. 

Sense  organs  consist  of  cells,  or  sets  of  cells, 
specialised  for  the  reception  of  particular  kinds  of 
impressions.  That  is  to  say,  if  the  particular  kind 
of  stimulus  they  are  fitted  to  receive  is  adminis- 

15 


16      THE  MACHINERY  OF   THE  MIND 

tered  to  them,  a  change,  probably  of  a  chemical 
type,  takes  place  in  their  substance,  which,  it  is 
thought,  gives  rise  to  energy  of  an  electrical  nature, 
which  runs  along  the  nerve  fibre  as  along  a  wire. 
At  the  present  moment,  however,  our  knowledge  of 
the  nature  of  the  nervous  impulse  is  tentative  and 
hypothetical. 

Like  all  other  living  tissue,  the  nervous  system 
is  built  up  of  millions  of  specialised  cells.  These 
cells  consist  of  a  main  cell  body  with  prolongations, 
usually  two  in  number.  One  of  these  has  a  mass 
of  branching  fibres  like  the  root  of  a  plant,  and  is 
called  the  dendron;  the  other  consists  of  a  long 
thread,  the  end  of  which  is  frayed  out  into  strands 
as  the  end  of  a  piece  of  worsted  may  be  unravelled. 
This  process  is  called  the  axon. 

The  thread-like  branches  of  the  axon  of  one  cell 
interlace  with  these  of  the  dendron  of  another  cell, 
and  a  nervous  impulse,  running  down  the  nerve 
fibres,  jumps  the  gap  in  the  same  way  as  the  elec- 
tric current  jumps  the  space  between  the  terminals 
of  an  arc  lamp. 

It  will  readily  be  seen  that  these  interlacing  fibrils, 
millions  in  number,  ramifying  throughout  every 
portion  of  the  body,  form  a  most  wonderful  system 
of  communication ;  the  brain  and  spinal  cord  acting 
as  a  central  telephone  exchange. 

Muscles  are  composed  of  long,  spindle-shaped 
cells  which  are  capable  of  contraction.     Chemical 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND      17 

changes  are  constantly  going  on  in  their  substance. 
The  blood  and  lymph  which  bathe  them  bring  food 
materials  and  carry  away  the  waste  products  of  their 
activity. 

These  food  substances,  which  are  highly  organised 
chemical  compounds,  are  stored  in  the  body  of  the 
cell.  When  a  nervous  impulse  is  received,  these 
food  globules,  as  it  were,  explode;  that  is  to  say, 
they  break  down  into  their  component  chemical 
parts,  and  the  energy  which  went  to  build  them  up 
is  set  free  in  the  process  and  performs  the  work  for 
which  the  muscle  is  designed. 

The  glands  are  the  chemists  of  the  body,  and  in 
the  crucibles  of  their  minute  cells  carry  out  the 
wonderful  processes  of  living  chemistry  upon  which 
our  vital  functions  are  based.  The  quantity  and 
quality  of  their  output  is  controlled  by  the  nervous 
system,  which  acts  as  regulator  of  every  process  of 
the  body. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  THE  NERVOUS 
SYSTEM 

The  easiest  way  to  grasp  the  organisation  of  our 
complex  nervous  structure  is  to  study  its  evolution 
from  its  humble  beginnings  in  the  simplest  forms  of 
life. 

In  single-celled  animalculse,  the  most  primitive 
type  of  living  creatures,  a  single  cell  performs  all 
the  functions  of  life;  it  moves,  breathes,  assimilates, 
excretes,  and  feels.  With  the  development  of  multi- 
cellular organisms,  however,  different  cells  are  given 
different  work  to  do,  and  made  to  do  that,  and  noth- 
ing else. 

It  then  becomes  necessary  that  co-ordination 
should  be  maintained  between  the  sense  organs  that 
perceive  the  prey  and  the  muscles  that  move  to  its 
capture,  and  for  this  purpose  other  cells  are  told 
off  to  specialise  in  communication. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  the  functional  unit  of 
the  nervous  system  is  not  the  nerve  cell,  but  what 
is  called  the  sensori-motor  arc,  consisting  of  a 
nerve  carrying  the  incoming  sensation  from  a  sense 
organ  and  making  contact  with  another  nerve  which 
carries  the  outgoing  impulse  to  a  muscle  or  organ. 

18 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     19 

When  a  multiplicity  of  muscles  becomes  available 
for  movement,  it  is  necessary  to  further  link  up 
the  sensori-motor  arcs,  so  that  other  parts  of  the 
structure  may  be  brought  into  play,  and  the  re- 
sponse not  be  confined  to  one  muscle  alone ;  so  nerve 
cells  form  loops  upon  the  arcs,  and  loops  upon  the 
loops,  with  further  intercommunications  among 
themselves,  the  organisation  becoming  more  and 
more  elaborate,  admitting  of  more  and  more  com- 
plex reactions  to  stimulus,  till  finally  the  wonder- 
ful complications  of  the  human  brain  are  achieved. 


CHAPTER  III 
HOW  AN  IDEA  ENTERS  THE  MIND 

When  an  impression  is  made  on  a  sense  organ,  the 
sensation  derived  from  it  is  telegraphed  up  the  con- 
necting nerve  fibre  to  the  brain,  and  there  trans- 
lated, by  a  process  of  which  we  know  nothing,  from 
a  sensation  to  a  thought. 

We  believe  that  the  mind  learns  by  experience 
to  associate  certain  kinds  of  sensation  with  certain 
objects  or  conditions  in  the  environment,  and  when 
it  feels  these  particular  sensations,  deduces  that  cer- 
tain objects  are  present,  and  forms  mental  images, 
or  thought  models,  intended  to  represent  these 
objects. 

The  truth  of  our  percepts  is  determined  by  the 
closeness  with  which  our  thought  model  corresponds 
to  its  original.  An  exact  copy  is  a  true  concept,  an 
imperfect  copy  an  inaccurate  concept. 

We  "  recognise  "  an  object  by  a  process  of  classi- 
fication, noting  its  likeness  or  unlikeness  to  other 
objects  already  known.  When  an  unfamiliar  ob- 
ject attracts  our  attention,  we  put  it  through  a  proc- 
ess of  comparison  until  we  find  to  which  compart- 
ment in  our  concept-pictures  it  should  be  assigned, 
and  if  we  cannot  find  a  perfect  match,  we  put  it  in 
the  most  suitable  compartment  we  can  discover,  and 

20 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     21 

then  partition  off  a  little  subclass  for  it,  thus  ad- 
mitting its  identity  in  essentials,  but  its  difference 
in  details  from  the  other  occupants  of  that  com- 
partment. 

For  example,  supposing  we  were  to  land  on  an 
island  and  an  object  on  the  shore  attracted  our  at- 
tention, we  should  try  to  see  what  class  of  things 
of  which  we  already  had  experience  it  most  closely 
resembled.  We  should  observe  its  movements,  and 
assign  it  to  the  class  of  living  creatures;  see  its  four 
limbs  and  hair,  and  conclude  it  was  an  animal. 
Note  its  upright  attitude,  clothes,  and  weapons,  and 
recognise  these  as  characteristic  of  humanity;  but 
perceiving  that  its  skin  differed  in  colour  from  that 
of  any  human  being  we  had  ever  seen  before,  we 
should  partition  off  a  fresh  subdivision  in  the  de- 
partment of  our  mind  in  which  our  ideas  connected 
with  humanity  were  stored,  place  it  there,  and  prob- 
ably give  it  a  distinguishing  name  by  means  of 
which  we  could  indicate  it  to  other  human  beings. 

Supposing,  however,  we  presently  come  across 
another  object  of  the  same  nature,  we  should  not 
have  to  make  a  fresh  subdivision  for  it,  but  would 
classify  it  with  the  previously  examined  specimen, 
and  thus  we  should  feel  this  time  that  we  "  knew 
what  it  was."  In  fact,  the  process  of  **  knowing  " 
is  a  process  of  classification,  and  we  feel  that  we 
"  know  "  a  thing  when  we  have  assigned  it  to  a  satis- 
factory pigeon-hole  among  our  concepts. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  ORGANISATION  OF  THE  UPPER 
LEVELS  OF  THE  MIND 

Those  untrained  in  psychology  generally  conceive 
of  the  mind  as  a  homogeneous  whole;  our  first  sys« 
tematic  examination  reveals  to  us,  however,  that 
the  mind  is  just  as  organic  as  the  body. 

The  organisation  of  the  mind  may  best  be  realised 
by  thinking  of  it  as  a  tank  across  which,  at  different 
heights,  are  placed  sieves  of  varying  coarseness  of 
mesh.  We  must  conceive  of  the  mind  as  being  com- 
posed of  certain  layers,  and  the  layer  in  which  our 
conscious  life  has  its  most  permanent  focus  we  will 
consider  to  be  the  outermost  layer  and  name  the 
FOCUS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS.  Immediately  behind  the 
Focus  of  Consciousness  lies  the  level  which  psychol- 
ogists call  THE  FRINGE  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS^  and  the 
two  are  divided  from  one  another  by  a  sieve-like 
mechanism  which  is  technically  called  a  censor. 

The  understanding  of  these  two  levels  of  the 
mind  may  be  rendered  clearer  if  we  next  consider 
the  uses  to  which  they  are  put.  Supposing  a  person 
is  sitting  in  a  room  listening  to  a  lecture,  of  what 
will  he  be  aware  ?  Firstly,  his  attention  will  be  con- 
centrated upon  the  lecture,  and,  secondly,  he  will 

22 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     23 

be  dimly  conscious  of  the  sounds  made  by  the  traffic 
in  the  street  outside.  By  an  effort  of  will  he  will 
pay  attention  to  those  ideas  only  which  are  con- 
nected with  the  lecture,  and  exclude  from  conscious- 
ness those  which  are  connected  with  the  street 
traffic;  or,  to  express  the  process  in  psychological 
terms,  we  may  say  that  all  the  ideas  connected 
with  the  lecture  are  admitted  to  the  focus  of  con- 
sciousness, and  all  ideas  connected  with  the  street 
noises  are  kept  in  the  fringe  of  consciousness, 
and  that  the  censor-sieve  is  so  adjusted  that 
ideas  in  the  fringe  may  not  intrude  upon  the 
focus.  Its  meshes  may  be  conceived  as  being  of 
such  a  size  that  only  the  compact  little  ideas  ap- 
pertaining to  the  lecture  can  pass  through  them, 
and  the  undefined  ideas  connected  with  the  street 
traffic  are  held  back. 

It  will  readily  be  seen  that  our  powers  of  con- 
centration depend  upon  the  satisfactory  function- 
ing of  this  psychic  sieve.  The  more  we  can  bring 
the  adjustment  of  its  meshes  under  voluntary  con- 
trol, the  better  will  be  our  powers  of  concentration ; 
whereas,  if  its  mesh  be  loose  or  faulty,  and  we  have 
acquired  little  or  no  control  over  it,  we  shall  find 
that  we  are  unable  to  hold  our  mind  to  any  consecu- 
tive train  of  thought,  and  that  our  focus  of  con- 
sciousness is  constantly  liable  to  be  invaded  by  ideas 
alien  to  the  matter  to  which  we  wish  to  pay  at- 
tention. 


24     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

These  two  levels,  the  focus  and  fringe  of 
CONSCIOUSNESS,  together  comprise  what  is  known 
as  THE  CONSCIOUS  MIND.  This  is  the  part  of  the 
mind  which  most  truly  seems  to  be  "  our-self."  It 
is  the  section  of  the  mind  in  which  we  carry  on 
all  our  conscious  mental  activities,  but  it  is  by  no 
means  the  whole  of  the  mental  house. 

Immediately  behind  the  fringe  of  consciousness 
comes  the  level  of  the  mind  which  is  known  as  the 
FORECONScious,  PRECONscious^  and  many  other 
things  according  to  the  school  of  psychology  whose 
doctrines  are  adhered  to.  If,  however,  its  function 
be  understood,  it  will  be  readily  enough  recognised 
through  the  disguise  of  the  varied  nomenclature 
which,  unfortunately,  complicates  the  study  of  psy- 
chology. 

In  this  level  of  the  mind  are  stored  all  the  ideas 
which  we  hold  in  memory,  but  are  not  actually 
thinking  about.  It  may,  in  fact,  be  defined  as 
the  level  of  conscious  memory,  and  just  as  the 
focus  is  separated  from  the  fringe  of  consciousness 
by  an  adjustable  censor-sieve,  so  an  exactly  similar 
sieve  interposes  between  the  fringe  of  conscious- 
ness and  the  foreconscious,  and  works  upon  exactly 
the  same  principles. 

Thus,  the  student  listening  to  the  lecture  could 
adjust  this  second  sieve  so  as  to  allow  everything 
he  had  ever  learnt  that  had  any  bearing  upon  the 
subject  in  hand,  to  rise   into  the   focus  of  con- 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     25 

sciousness  and  help  him  to  understand  the  lecture. 
It  is  this  faculty  which  is  of  such  great  importance 
in  determining  the  critical  powers  of  the  mind, 
for  the  previously  determined  ideas,  ranging  them- 
selves alongside  the  fresh  concepts  offered  for  as- 
similation, serve  as  standards  of  value,  and  form  a 
running  commentary  upon  the  lecture. 

These  three  levels  together,  the  focus,  the  fringe, 
and  the  foreconscious,  form  the  level  of  the  mind 
to  which  we  have  access  and  of  which  we  can  make 
use ;  but  we  must  note  this  point  in  connection  with 
these  levels,  that  any  idea  which  we  may  wish  to 
consider  must  be  placed  in  the  strong  light  of  the 
focus  of  consciousness  before  we  can  see  it  clearly; 
we  cannot  consider  an  idea  while  it  is  still  in  the 
foreconscious,  but  we  can,  at  will,  take  it  out  of 
the  foreconscious  and  place  it  in  the  focus  of  con- 
sciousness for  our  consideration. 

Indeed,  these  three  levels  of  the  mind  may  be 
likened  to  a  kitchen,  the  foreconscious  being  the 
cupboard,  the  fringe  of  consciousness  the  table, 
and  the  focus  of  consciousness  the  mixing  basin; 
and  the  ideas  upon  the  three  levels  may  be  repre- 
sented by  the  ingredients  of  the  pudding,  some  of 
which  are  put  away  in  the  cupboard,  some  lie  ready 
to  the  hand  upon  the  table,  and  others  are  actually  in 
the  mixing  basin  being  stirred. 

Those  on  the  table,  like  the  ideas  in  the  fringe 
of  consciousness,  lie  ready  to  the  cook^s  hand,  but 


26      THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

she  is  not  dealing  with  them  at  the  moment;  those 
in  the  cupboard  (the  foreconscious)  are  out  of 
sight,  but  she  knows  they  are  there  and  can  get 
them  if  she  wants  them-  but  it  is  only  those  that 
are  in  the  basin,  the  focus  of  consciousness,  that 
she  is  actually  at  work  upon. 

To  the  average  man  these  three  levels  constitute 
all  there  is  of  his  mind,  he  has  no  conception  of 
the  strange  hinterland  lying  behind  the  narrow  strip 
of  civilised  coast,  yet  it  is  here  that  the  springs  of 
his  being  take  their  rise,  and  it  is  the  discovery 
and  exploration  of  this  hinterland  which  has  been 
the  great  contribution  of  modern  psychology  to  the 
sum  of  human  knowledge. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  ORGANISATION  OF  THE  LOWER 
LEVELS  OF  THE  MIND 

In  the  level  of  the  mind  known  as  the  subconscious 
or  unconscious  are  stored  all  the  ideas  to  which 
we  have  no  direct  access. 

Some  psychologists  say  that  the  memory  of  every 
impression  which  has  ever  been  received  by  a  sense 
organ  is  registered  here  as  on  a  photographic  plate, 
but  this  opinion  is  not  universally  accepted.  We 
shall  be  quite  safe  in  saying,  however,  that  the 
memory  of  anything  which  has  ever  made  a  dis- 
tinct impression  on  the  mind  is  stored  here  and 
plays  its  part  in  the  mental  life. 

Between  the  subconscious  and  the  foreconscious 
is  placed  the  great  main  censor-sieve  of  the  mind, 
and  it  is  this  which  is  meant  when  the  "  censor  " 
is  referred  to  in  psychoanalytical  literature. 

This  censor-sieve  is  of  the  greatest  importance 
in  the  mental  economy,  for  upon  its  function  the 
health  of  the  mind  is  largely  dependent.  If  its 
meshes  are  too  loose,  we  get  an  uprush  into  con- 
sciousness of  ideas  which  should  never  be  there; 
and  if  too  tight,  the  conscious  mind  is  cut  off  from 

the  source  of  its  energy,  the  subconscious. 

23 


28     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

This  sieve  is  constructed  upon  the  same  prin- 
ciples as  the  two  others  which  we  have  already 
considered,  but  it  has  one  fundamental  difference, 
it  is  not  under  the  control  of  the  will;  the  dimen- 
sion of  its  mesh  is  regulated,  not  by  what  I,  at 
the  moment,  may  happen  to  wish,  but  by  what 
the  main  tenor  of  my  character  may  determine. 

The  foreconscious,  then,  may  be  likened  to  a  ref- 
erence library,  but  the  great  storehouse  of  the  sub- 
conscious is  a  vault  in  which  the  archives  are  kept; 
and  although  the  bulk  of  them  never  touch  the 
conscious  mind,  it  is  their  indirect  influence  which 
determines  the  tone  of  the  character. 

The  remotest  level  of  the  mind,  whose  function- 
ing is  purely  automatic,  has  the  control  of  all  the 
vital  functions  of  the  body.  Its  thought  processes 
direct  the  activities  of  the  spinal  level  of  the  ner- 
vous system,  whereas  the  other  levels  of  the  mind 
have  the  brain  as  their  physical  organ  of  manifesta- 
tion, as  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  a  disease  of  the 
brain  can  throw  the  reasoning  faculties  out  of  gear 
and  leave  the  purely  physiological  nervous  func- 
tions intact,  whereas  a  disease  of  the  spinal  cord 
may  render  inoperative  the  nervous  processes  of 
the  bodily  functions,  though  the  mental  processes 
are  unimpaired. 

The  psychic  processes  of  the  automatic  mind 
govern  all  the  biochemical  processes  of  the  body; 
it  is  this  level  which  controls  the  involuntary  muscles. 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     29 

regulates  the  blood  supply  to  any  part  of  the  body, 
controls  the  output  of  the  ductless  glands,  and  hence 
the  chemical  composition  of  the  blood.  It  is  these 
facts  which  may  throw  light  upon  the  origin  of 
many  functional  disturbances  and  upon  the  phe- 
nomena of  mental  healing. 

Although  the  automatic  level  is  not  normally  in 
touch  with  the  conscious  mind,  it  is  enormously 
affected  by  the  general  feeling-tone  of  the  mentality, 
and  especially  by  the  emotional  states  of  the  sub- 
conscious, hence  the  alterations  of  physiological 
function  which  take  place  in  nervous  disease. 

This  level  of  the  mind  was  the  first  to  be  organised 
in  the  history  of  biological  development.  The  dim 
mentation  of  the  rudimentary  beginnings  of  life 
was  of  the  automatic  order,  being  entirely  concerned 
with  physiological  processes. 

As  organisms  became  more  evolved,  a  higher 
type  of  intelligence  was  necessary  for  the  carrying 
out  of  their  life  activities,  and  we  get  mentation 
of  the  type  that  is  carried  on  in  the  subconscious 
level,  the  impulsive  mentation  of  the  instincts. 

Level  by  level  the  mind  builds  itself  up,  in  the 
race  and  in  the  individual ;  and  level  by  level,  under 
the  influence  of  old  age,  disease  or  drugs,  the  planes 
of  consciousness  break  down  in  the  inverse  order 
to  that  in  which  they  developed,  the  more  recently 
organised  higher  centres  going  first,  and  the  auto- 
matic mind,  the  oldest  and  most  stable,  with  aeons 


30      THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

of  habit  behind  it,  working  on  to  the  last,  keeping 
the  bodily  mechanism  running  long  after  all  that 
made  the  organism  a  man  has  withdrawn  from  its 
dishonoured  vehicle. 


CHAPTER  VI 
COMPLEXES 

Having  studied  the  levels  into  which  the  mind 
is  divided,  we  must  next  consider  the  nature  of 
the  material  that  is  stored  in  them,  and  to  do  this 
we  must  study  the  workings  of  memory. 

When  an  idea  enters  the  mind  it  does  not  remain 
an  independent  unit  for  very  long.  It  seems  to  be 
a  fundamental  characteristic  of  ideas  that  they  form 
alliances  among  themselves,  and  these  groups  of 
ideas  are  technically  known  as  complexes. 

A  complex  may  be  compared  to  the  branching 
growth  of  a  pond-weed;  it  has  a  central  starting- 
point  from  which  ramify  threads  that  divide  and 
subdivide,  and  branch  in  every  direction,  and  con- 
nect it  with  other  systems  of  ideas  that  have  similar 
branching  threads.  Thus  it  is  that  if  an  idea  on 
any  subject  enters  our  consciousness,  we  find  that 
it  is  not  an  isolated  unit,  but  one  end  of  a  chain 
which  branches  into  all  sorts  of  side  issues;  we 
have  not  touched  a  single  line  of  thought,  but  a 
whole  railway  system. 

These  systems  of  ideas  spread  and  ramify  through 
all  the  levels  of  the  mind,  but  if  we  trace  them  far 

31 


32     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

enough,  we  shall  invariably  find  that  they  have  their 
roots  in  one  of  the  great  primal  instincts,  deep 
down  in  the  subconscious.  It  is  from  this  that 
they  derive  the  vitality  that  binds  them  together, 
for  all  complexes  have  a  core  of  emotion,  and  it  is 
from  the  instincts  that  the  emotions  spring. 

Let  us  take  an  example  from  actual  life,  and  see 
how  these  principles  work.  A  man  may,  for  exam- 
ple, be  a  grocer;  he  will  therefore  have  a  Grocery 
Complex,  that  is  to  say,  all  his  ideas  connected  with 
the  buying  and  selling  of  household  commodities 
will  be  linked  together,  so  that  if  a  train  of  thought 
be  started  in  connection  with  any  one  aspect  of  his 
business,  by  an  easy  transition  many  other  aspects 
may  drift  into  his  mind. 

Now,  grocery  is  not  in  itself  an  absorbing  subject, 
like  literature  or  science,  yet  the  man  is  interested 
in  it;  and  why?  because  his  grocery  complex  has 
its  root  in  his  self-preservation  instinct,  for  it  is 
the  means  by  which  he  keeps  himself  alive.  If  his 
grocery  business  prospers,  he  feels  pleasure,  be- 
cause it  means  a  fuller  and  pleasanter  life  for  him; 
if  it  diminishes,  he  feels  pain  and  fear,  because 
his  means  of  keeping  himself  alive  are  threatened. 

In  addition  to  being  a  grocer,  however,  he  may 
be  an  elder  of  the  local  chapel,  and  have  a  far- 
reaching  complex  of  religious  interests,  ramifying, 
interlacing,  and  having  their  instinctive  roots  in 
his  subconscious,  just  as  his  grocery  complex  has. 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND      33 

Then,  one  day,  he  may  be  looking  up  the  current 
price  of  pepper  in  his  trade  list,  and  from  pepper 
his  thoughts  pass  to  spices  in  general ;  their  pungent 
odour  suggests  incense,  and  he  asks  himself  whether 
ritualism  is  ever  allowable.  It  will  here  be  seen 
that  a  trailing  branch  of  his  grocery  complex  has 
made  contact  with  his  religious  complex  and  brought 
it  into  consciousness. 

Again,  our  grocer  may  be  thinking  of  getting 
married,  and  immediately  his  grocery  complex 
throws  out  a  side  shoot  which  strikes  root  in  his 
reproductive  instinct,  and  his  interest  in  grocery 
is  reinforced  by  much  of  the  interest  which  gathers 
round  sex  in  his  life,  for  it  is  upon  the  pros- 
perity of  his  business  that  his  prospect  of  marriage 
depends. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  the  mind  is  filled  with 
a  ramifying  mass  of  complexes  which  throw  out 
branches  in  every  direction,  and  that  if  the  end 
of  any  thread  be  caught  hold  of,  by  gently  pulling 
upon  it  we  can  draw  all  the  complexes  with  which 
it  is  connected  into  consciousness.  This  is  how 
memory  works,  and  even  if  an  idea  has  been  "  for- 
gotten,'' that  is,  passed  from  the  conscious  into 
the  subconscious,  it  is  still  possible  to  recover  it  by 
taking  advantage  of  this  tendency  of  ideas  to  stick 
together;  for  by  gently  pulling  upon  the  parts  of 
the  complex  to  which  it  is  affiliated  which  are  in 
consciousness,  the  branchings  which  are  in  the  sub- 


34f     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

conscious  can  be  coaxed  into  light.     It  is  upon  this 
factor  that  psychoanalysis  bases  much  of  its  work. 
Ideas  tend  to  group  themselves  in  complexes  ac- 
cording to  certain  well-defined  principles. 

I.  All  ideas  connected  with  the  same  subject  tend 
to  become  associated  together. 

II.  Ideas  which  enter  the  mind  at  the  same  time 
tend  to  become  associated  together.  For  instance, 
if  I  have  a  nasty  fall  on  a  piece  of  banana  skin 
while  going  to  the  pillar-box,  when  I  see  bananas 
I  shall  think  of  falls  and  pillar-boxes,  and  when  I 
see  pillar-boxes,  I  may  think  of  bananas  and  falls. 

III.  Ideas  of  cause  and  effect  become  associated 
together. 

IV.  Ideas  which  have  any  sort  of  resemblance, 
fundamental  or  superficial,  tend  to  recall  one  an- 
other. Thus,  if  I  think  of  sausages,  I  may  be  put 
in  mind  of  Zeppelins,  and  if  I  think  of  the  fall  on 
the  banana  skin,  my  mind  may  leap  to  the  Niagara 
Falls  or  fallen  women. 

This  irrational  method  of  thought  is  of  enormous 
importance  in  applied  psychology,  for  much  of  the 
thinking  carried  on  by  the  subconscious  mind  is 
done  in  this  way,  and  it  gives  rise  to  that  peculiar 
method  of  thought  which  will  be  dealt  with  in  the 
chapter  on  symbolism. 


CHAPTER  VII 
THE  INSTINCTS 

We  have  already  considered  the  mind  as  a  tank 
divided  into  compartments  by  sieves  of  varying 
diameters  of  mesh,  let  us  now  consider  the  currents 
that  move  in  the  water  that  fills  the  tank.  We 
may  diagrammatically  conceive  the  inflow  as  taking 
place  through  one  main  channel  into  the  subcon- 
scious, and  there  dividing  into  three  streams.  This 
main  channel  of  energy,  which  supplies  the  motive 
power  of  all  living  creatures,  has  been  called  by 
many  names:  libido,  horme,  elan  vitale,  and  bio- 
urge;  an  adequate  English  equivalent  is  the  thrust 
of  Hfe. 

This  stream  of  psychic  energy  becomes  special- 
ised in  the  individual  into  divergent  currents,  which 
we  call  the  three  great  instincts.  The  first  of  these 
is  the  SELF-PRESERVATION  INSTINCT.  Under  this 
heading  may  be  gathered  up  all  the  activities  which 
are  motived  by  ( i )  the  Will  to  Live,  or  Self-Main- 
tenance, and,  (2)  the  Will  to  Live  more  Fully,  or 
Self- Aggrandisement. 

The  second  great  instinct  is  that  of  reproduc- 
tion, or  SEX,  whose  function  it  is  to  secure  race 

preservation.    Through  this  channel  tends  to  go  the 

35 


36      THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

surplus  of  energy  left  over  after  the  demands  of 
self -maintenance  have  been  fulfilled. 

The  third  great  instinct  is  the  social  or  herd 
INSTINCT,  by  which  term  we  designate  that  system 
of  innate  tendencies  and  capacities  which  enables 
us  to  co-operate  with  our  fellows  and  lead  a  social 
life,  with  all  its  advantages  and  disadvantages. 

Some  animals,  however,  do  not  have  this  third 
instinct,  but  lead  solitary  lives,  acknowledging  no 
ties  save  those  of  mate  and  offspring;  but  the  more 
highly  evolved  types,  including  man,  have  developed 
this  great  specialisation  of  psychic  energy  which 
enables  them  to  lead  a  social  life. 

These  three  great  instincts  act  and  react  on  each 
other  in  the  hidden  field  of  subconscious,  and 
build  up  social  organisation  and  individual  character. 

In  order  to  understand  the  workings  of  the  in- 
stincts, however,  it  must  be  clearly  realised  that 
they  are  universal  and  not  personal  in  their  scope; 
the  survival  or  suffering  of  the  unit  are  not  consid- 
ered in  the  scheme  of  things,  it  is  the  race  that 
counts. 

If  we  regard  the  instincts  as  subserving  the  wel- 
fare of  the  individual  only,  we  form  a  concept 
which  cannot  fail  to  lead  us  astray  when  we  seek 
to  put  our  conclusions  to  a  practical  application. 
The  workings  of  instinct  must  be  viewed  from  the 
standpoint  of  evolutionary  progress,  not  individual 
well-being.     This  is  the  point  of  view  from  which 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND      37 

Nature  frames  her  schemes,  and  we  can  only  hope 
to  understand  her  ways  if  we  occupy  her  stand- 
point. 

To  regard  man  as  actuated  by  reason  is  a  hope- 
less error.  Instinct  forms  the  mainspring  of  his 
action,  and  reason  is  used  to  carry  out  the  prompt- 
ings of  instinct.  It  must  be  remembered,  however, 
that  instinct  does  not  function  in  crude  physical 
forms  only.  Man  possesses  emotions  and  intellect 
as  well  as  a  body,  and  upon  each  plane  of  his  being 
the  instincts  express  themselves  appropriately,  func- 
tioning emotionally  and  intellectually  as  well  as 
physically.  A  man  uses  his  wits  as  well  as  his 
muscles  in  the  struggle  for  self-preservation,  and 
the  sex  instinct  is  not  exhausted  by  the  physical  act 
of  procreation. 

Emphasis  is  laid  upon  this  point,  because  herein 
lies  the  key  to  the  practical  application  of  psychology 
to  human  life. 

The  emotions  have  their  sources  in  the  instincts ; 
indeed,  an  emotion  may  be  said  to  be  the  subjective 
aspect  of  an  instinct.  If  an  instinct  is  achieving 
its  aim,  we  feel  pleasure;  if  it  is  being  frustrated, 
we  feel  pain;  and  if  we  anticipate  its  frustration, 
we  feel  fear. 

Whenever  there  is  emotion,  some  underlying  in- 
stinct must  have  been  stirred  into  activity.  It  will 
thus  be  seen  how  predominating  is  the  influence 
exerted  by  the  instincts  upon  our  lives;  they  may. 


38     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

in  fact,  be  considered  the  mainsprings  of  motive. 
At  one  time  psychology  busied  itself  with  the 
reasoning  processes,  and  looked  upon  man  as  a  ra- 
tional being,  and  indeed  the  man  in  the  street  still 
considers  himself  as  such,  but  the  researches  of 
modern  psychology  have  shown  us  that  emotion  and 
not  reason  is  the  actuating  force,  and  that  reason 
is  a  tool  in  the  service  of  the  emotions. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  SELF-PRESERVATION  INSTINCT 

The  self-preservation  instinct  appears  to  our  con- 
sciousness under  the  guise  of  that  deep-rooted  cling- 
ing to  life,  that  desire  to  live,  which  characterises 
every  living  thing.  It  is  this  instinct,  functioning 
simply  in  simply  organised  creatures,  that  leads  them 
to  seek  food  and  avoid  danger,  and  also  causes  that 
complex  organism,  a  civilised  man,  to  carry  out  the 
elaborate  activities  of  "  earning  a  living." 

It  is  essentially  a  selfish  instinct,  for  it  leads  the 
individual  to  regard  his  own  welfare  alone,  and  to 
consider  others  only  so  far  as  their  existence  is 
essential  to  his.  For  instance,  shooting  and  hunting 
during  the  breeding  season  are  forbidden  by  law, 
not  out  of  consideration  for  the  hunted  creatures, 
but  because  the  continuation  of  their  species  is  use- 
ful to  us. 

Its  influence,  however,  is  often  modified  by  the 
two  other  great  instincts  whose  influence  may  be- 
come so  strong  under  certain  circumstances  as  to 
induce  a  man  not  only  to  disregard  his  own  inter- 
ests, but  even  to  lay  down  his  life  for  others. 

39 


40      THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

In  many  varieties  of  animals,  however,  only  tv^o 
instincts  are  present,  self-preservation  and  repro- 
duction; but  in  animals  that  are  associated  together 
into  herds  or  packs,  a  third  instinct  is  developed, 
the  social  instinct.  When  this  occurs,  the  function- 
ing of  the  self-preservation  instinct  is  greatly  modi- 
fied; the  individual  no  longer  owes  his  existence 
solely  to  his  power  to  cope  with  his  environment, 
but  depends  mainly  upon  his  ability  to  keep  his 
place  in  the  herd;  and  upon  the  social  organisation 
devolves  the  task  of  adaptation  and  survival.  The 
strayed  sheep  is  soon  hunted  down,  the  solitary  wolf 
starves. 

This  is  equally  true  of  man,  who  is  also  a  social 
animal.  The  misery  of  Central  Europe,  in  the  break- 
down of  social  organisation  following  upon  the 
war,  has  shown  us  the  helplessness  of  the  individual 
human  being  and  his  complete  dependence  upon 
herd  life. 

The  self-preservation  instinct  and  its  ruthless 
functioning  under  the  law  of  natural  selection  has 
furnished  a  theme  to  many  moralists  and  sociolo- 
gists of  the  materialistic  type,  but  they  are  apt  to 
forget  that  the  socialisation  of  humanity  has  changed 
the  nature  of  the  problem;  the  unit  of  survival  is 
no  longer  the  individual,  but  the  social  organisation 
of  which  he  is  a  member.  The  law  of  self-preserva- 
tion has  given  place  to  the  law  of  group  preserva- 
tion, and  the  centre  of  psychic  gravity  is  shifted. 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     41 

The  importance  of  this  point  cannot  be  over-esti- 
mated in  practical  psychology. 

By  some  psychologists  the  instinct  of  nutrition 
is  distinguished  from  that  of  self-preservation,  but 
for  all  practical  purposes  they  are  identical. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  in  applying  the  standards 
of  psychology  to  the  human  character,  that  in  the 
more  highly  developed  types  of  human  being  the 
self-preservation  instinct  is  not  fulfilled  simply  by 
the  continuance  of  physical  life;  there  is  self-preser- 
vation of  the  personality  as  well  as  of  the  bodily 
existence,  and  unless  a  man  has  adequate  scope  for 
self-expression  and  self-development,  he  will  experi- 
ence that  sense  of  incompleteness  and  imperfection 
characteristic  of  the  repression  of  an  instinct. 


CHAPTER  IX 

DISEASES  OF  THE  SELF-PRESERVATION 

INSTINCT 

The  self-preservation  instinct,  having  its  source 
in  the  sense  of  individuality,  of  separateness,  is  the 
motive  of  our  self-assertion.  It  is  necessary  that 
each  member  of  a  herd  should  have  a  certain  amount 
of  self-assertiveness  in  order  to  maintain  his  place 
among  his  fellows.  If,  however,  this  quality  is 
above  or  below  the  requisite  standard,  his  survival 
will  be  endangered ;  if,  on  the  one  hand,  he  is  lack- 
ing in  self-assertion,  he  will  not  obtain  his  fair 
share  of  the  means  of  life  available  for  the  group 
of  which  he  is  a  member.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
his  self-assertion  is  excessive,  it  may  disrupt  the 
social  organisation,  and  either  lead  to  the  extinction 
of  the  group,  or  to  his  ejection  from  it. 

Lack  of  self-preservation  instinct  is  usually  due 
to  deep-seated  psycho-pathologies,  too  complex  to 
be  entered  upon  here;  but  we  may  say  in  passing 
that  this  failure  is  often  due  to  a  division  of  aims 
in  the  subconscious  mind,  the  individual  is  not  sure 
which  self  he  ought  to  preserve,  and  so  preserves 

neither. 

42 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND      43 

An  excess  of  self-preservation  is  often  developed 
in  the  child  who  has  had  a  hard  struggle  to  find 
and  express  his  individuality. 

The  self-preservation  instinct  has  a  great  influence 
upon  vitality.  All  observant  persons  must  have 
noticed  how  easily  the  man  who  has  lost  his  hold 
upon  life,  or  has  given  up  hope,  succumbs  to  dis- 
ease. 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  REPRODUCTIVE  INSTINCT 

The  reproductive  instinct  is  Nature's  mechanism 
for  ensuring  the  continuation  of  the  species,  and 
its  subjective  aspect  appears  to  us  as  all  the  emo- 
tions and  sensations  connected  with  sex. 

As  soon  as  the  demands  of  the  self-preservation 
instinct  are  satisfied,  as  soon  as  the  individual  is 
secure,  adequately  fed  and  sufficiently  developed, 
then  life  tends  to  overflow  the  vessel  it  has  filled, 
and  this  psychic  pressure  constitutes  sex  desire. 

Sex,  however,  must  not  be  considered  under  its 
physical  manifestations  only,  it  has  an  emotional 
and  mental  aspect  as  well.  It  is  more  than  the 
mere  overflow  of  energy  in  the  act  of  procreation, 
it  is  also  the  desire  for  the  rejuvenation  and  vital 
stimulus  that  is  produced  by  the  act  of  union.  Who- 
soever in  considering  human  problems  fails  to  look 
beyond  the  physical  stratum  of  the  sex  instinct,  can- 
not fail  to  obtain  a  false  perspective. 

It  has  been  laid  down  as  a  maxim  that  psychology 
and  physiology  ought  to  be  kept  strictly  separate, 
but  it  is  impossible  to  treat  adequately  of  the  sex 
instinct  without  considering  it  under  both  its  aspects, 
for  sex  activity  works  in  a  psycho-physical  circle; 

44 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     45 

organic  sensations  stimulate  the  emotions,  and  the 
emotions  react  on  the  organs.  A  sexual  image  rising 
in  the  mind  brings  about  the  preliminary  reaction 
of  the  physical  organs  of  its  expression;  and  any 
irritation  of  the  physical  organs,  however  accidental, 
tends  to  produce  a  corresponding  emotional  state. 
Stimulus  may  occur  at  any  point  on  the  psycho- 
physical circuit,  and  so  may  inhibition. 

The  sex  instinct  forms  the  nucleus  of  a  huge 
complex,  second  only  to  the  group  of  ideas  that 
centres  round  the  individuality  itself.  To  all  ideas 
and  activities  that  are  in  any  way  connected  with 
the  gratification  of  the  sexual  desire,  its  energy 
readily  passes  over.  Dress,  the  home,  the  ambi- 
tions, each  and  all  may  owe  their  interest  to  the 
reproductive  instinct  which  uses  them  as  channels 
for  its  fulfilment. 


CHAPTER  XI 

DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  REPRODUCTIVE 

INSTINCT 

The  sex  instinct,  in  the  course  of  development  from 
its  infantile  aspect  to  its  adult  manifestation,  goes 
through  well-marked  phases  which  are  little  known 
outside  the  ranks  of  the  psychotherapists,  but  which 
are  of  great  importance  to  the  educationalist  and 
sociologist. 

The  sexuality  of  the  child  is  simply  a  capacity 
for  deriving  gratification  from  certain  feelings,  and 
it  is  a  diffused  and  vague  sensation  that  he  experi- 
ences; this  capacity,  however,  as  the  child  grows 
older,  becomes  gradually  concentrated  upon  its  physi- 
ological channels  of  activity,  and  as  it  becomes 
concentrated  it  increases  in  intensity,  just  as  the 
placid  waters  of  a  broad  and  shallow  river  become 
deep  and  headlong  in  a  ravine. 

The  interests  of  a  very  young  child  only  gradually 
extend  beyond  his  own  bodily  sensations,  and  he 
therefore  leads  an  existence  that  is  self-centred  be- 
yond any  adult  conception  of  the  term.  The  organs 
of  reproduction,  being  very  highly  nerved  in  prep- 
aration for  their  future  functions,  are  found  to  be 
capable  of  keener  sensation  than  the  rest  of  the 

46 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     47 

body,  and  therefore  attract  his  attention.     This  is 

the  AUTO-EROTIC  STAGE. 

The,  to  a  child,  striking  manifestations  connected 
with  the  exercise  of  the  bodily  functions  also  attract 
his  interest.     This  is  the  coprophilic  stage. 

Later,  his  curiosity  concerning  his  own  body  being 
satisfied,  he  begins  to  be  curious  concerning  the 
bodies  of  others.  This  is  called  the  homosexual 
STAGE,  the  stage  wherein  he  is  interested  in  bodies 
of  the  same  sex  as  his  own,  but  it  might  more  truly 
be  called  the  stage  of  undifferentiated  interest,  for 
the  child  is  only  interested  in  those  who  are  made 
in  the  same  way  as  himself,  because  he  is  not  aware 
that  anyone  is  made  differently. 

This  curiosity  being  outgrown,  his  interest  is 
transferred  to  those  who  are  different  from  himself, 
regardless  as  to  whether  they  are  closely  related  to 
him  or  not.  Soon,  however,  he  begins  to  differen- 
tiate between  his  immediate  relations  and  those  who 
are  less  closely  connected.  This  is  called  by  psy- 
chologists "  the  raising  of  the  incest  barriers,"  but 
to  the  child  it  appears  simply  as  a  moving  on  of  the 
focus  of  interest;  he  is  no  longer  attracted  by  his 
mother  and  sisters,  not  because  he  feels  it  is  wrong 
to  have  such  feelings  towards  them,  but  because 
familiarity  breeds  contempt,  and  gives  rise  to  the 
state  of  mind  that  is  expressed  in  the  phrase  *'  insipid 
as  sisters'  kisses." 

The  child  has  now  attained  the  adult  attitude 


48     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

towards  sex,  and  it  only  remains  for  the  physical 
organs  to  make  their  corresponding  development 
at  the  time  of  puberty  for  the  circuit  to  be  com- 
plete. 


CHAPTER  XII 

DISEASES  OF  THE  REPRODUCTIVE 
INSTINCT 

I.  Should  an  individual  be  lacking  in  vigour,  he 
may  fail  to  reach  his  full  psychic  development,  and 
stick  fast  at  one  of  the  earlier  phases.  The  adult 
sex  force  therefore  manifests  itself  in  an  immature 
form,  and  the  individual  is  a  pervert  of  a  congenital 
type.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  his  peculiarity  will 
appear  to  him  as  normal  and  natural,  and  will  not 
interfere  with  the  development  of  a  high  type  of 
character  and  perfect  health,  though  his  path  through 
life  is  rendered  a  difficult  one  owing  to  the  insuper- 
able obstacles  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  love  nature. 
Two  courses  are  open  to  him.  He  may  become 
an  actual  pervert,  in  which  case  he  incurs  the  cen- 
sure of  society,  because  he  is  unfaithful  to  his  trust 
in  not  using  the  overflow  of  his  life  force  for  the 
upbuilding  of  the  herd,  but  expends  it  through  chan- 
nels that  cannot  lead  to  reproduction  and  thus  wastes 
it;  also  because  any  sexual  abnormality  is  exceed- 
ingly infectious,  owing  to  the  force  of  suggestion, 
whether  by  example  or  precept,  and  would  lead  other 
and  normal  individuals  to  similar  antisocial  action. 
It  is  this  strong  race-preservation  instinct  that  gives 

49 


50     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

rise  to  the  disgust  and  anger  of  the  normal  individ- 
ual at  all  forms  of  abnormality. 

The  unfortunate,  however,  may  instead  become 
a  potential  pervert,  and  repress  into  his  subcon- 
scious mind  desires  which  he  feels  to  be  wrong; 
he  tries  to  lead  a  normal  life,  but  the  adult  form 
of  sex  does  not  satisfy  him,  and  in  his  heart  he 
really  desires  the  abnormal  form  which  he  should 
have  outgrown  and  left  behind.  This  wish,  not 
being  allowed  by  the  censor  to  enter  consciousness, 
has  recourse  to  symbolic  expression,  and  gives  rise 
to  many  forms  of  insanity  and  neuroticism. 

II.  An  individual  may  be  developing  quite  nor- 
mally, when  some  shock,  often  quite  slight,  or  some 
undue  pressure  of  environment,  may  artificially 
arrest  his  development,  and  he  will  go  through  much 
the  same  phases  as  the  potential  pervert,  but  being 
of  better  mental  material  to  begin  with,  he  will 
usually  incline  towards  neurotic  disease  rather  than 
insanity. 

Those  who  have  the  care  of  children  should  be 
careful  not  to  give  the  child  a  shock  by  adminis- 
tering a  severe  reprimand  when  his  curiosities  and 
activities  take  an  undesirable  form ;  such  action  gives 
the  matter  undue  prominence  in  the  child's  mind, 
and  may  lead  to  a  stoppage  of  development  at  the 
phase  represented  by  the  undesirable  activity.  Ex- 
planation and  counsel  will  be  more  effective  than  a 
scolding,  and  leave  no  undesirable  after  effects. 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     51 

III.  An  individual  may  reach  normal  adulthood 
quite  safely,  but,  his  energies  finding  no  outlet  on 
that  level  owing  to  force  of  circumstances,  they  may 
revert  to  one  of  the  primitive  phases  through  which 
he  has  passed,  and  he  may  acquire  a  perversion  of 
sexual  habit  with  the  same  liabilities  to  disease  that 
we  have  noted  above. 

IV.  Excessive  sexual  activity  may  lead  to  jaded 
powers  of  response  to  normal  sexual  stimuli,  and 
the  individual  may  then  deliberately  turn  to  abnormal 
forms  of  gratification  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  satis- 
faction. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

SUBLIMATION 

Should  an  instinct  be  denied  its  expression  and 
all  ideas  connected  with  it  be  repressed  into  the 
subconscious,  trouble  will  ensue.  The  lower  reaches 
of  a  river  can  be  emptied  by  the  simple  expedient 
of  placing  a  dam  across  its  channel,  but  this  does 
not  solve  the  problem  of  the  surplus  water,  which 
gathers  head  behind  the  obstruction  till  it  bursts 
its  banks  and  makes  a  morass  of  the  upper  reaches. 
If  it  is  necessary  to  deflect  a  river  from  its  bed, 
then  an  alternative  course  must  be  provided,  for 
the  water  continues  to  come  down  from  the  hills 
and  must  by  some  means  be  disposed  of. 

It  is  precisely  this  engineering  problem  that  the 
psychotherapist  has  to  deal  with.  We  know  that 
a  large  percentage  of  mental  and  nervous  disorders 
are  caused  by  the  repression  of  the  sex  instinct.  This 
great  instinct,  in  its  mental  and  physical  aspects, 
is  so  fundamental  and  so  powerful  that  it  cannot 
with  safety  to  the  individual  be  entirely  repressed, 
nor  with  safety  to  society  be  given  free  rein,  and 
we  are  on  the  horns  of  a  dilemma,  for  social  laws 
demand  that  it  shall  only  be  expressed  under  very 

52 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND      53 

limited  conditions — those  of  legal  marriage,  and 
even  then  not  to  an  unlimited  extent;  and  nature 
demands  that  it  shall  be  expressed  as  soon  as  the 
physical  organs  of  its  manifestation  are  sufficiently 
developed  to  function. 

The  average  man  solves  this  problem  for  himself 
by  conniving  at  the  maintenance  of  a  pariah  class 
of  women  whose  very  existence  is  socially  ignored 
and  is  a  fertile  source  of  misery,  disease,  and  crime; 
but  for  women,  unless  they  are  prepared  perma- 
nently to  join  the  pariah  class,  a  social  safety  valve 
does  not  exist,  and  we  find  among  them  a  much 
higher  percentage  than  among  men  suffering  from 
those  nervous  troubles  that  are  due  to  a  repression 
of  the  sex  instinct,  and  this  also  applies  to  men 
who,  whether  from  idealism  or  fear  of  disease,  do 
not  avail  themselves  of  a  compromise. 

This  problem  would  prove  as  intractable  in  the 
future  as  it  has  in  the  past  were  it  not  that  we 
now  know  that  the  law  of  transmutation  of  energy 
from  one  form  to  another  is  as  true  for  psychology 
as  it  is  for  physics,  and  sex  force  can  be  utilised 
for  other  purposes  than  physical  reproduction.  This 
process    of    conversion    is    technically    known    as 

SUBLIMATION. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  important  discoveries 
of  modern  psychology,  for  it  provides  the  solution 
to  grave  social  problems  that  menace  the  fabric 
of  civiHsation. 


54^      THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

How,  in  actual  practice,  can  this  result  be 
achieved  ? 

First,  by  altering  our  entire  attitude  toward  sex, 
and  realising  that  a  problem  is  not  solved  by  ignoring 
its  existence.  Secondly,  by  taking  the  sex  problem 
out  of  the  domain  of  the  subconscious  into  the  con- 
scious mind  and  frankly  facing  it,  and  acquiring 
dominion  over  it  by  the  practice  of  thought  control, 
transmuting  our  emotions  instead  of  repressing 
them;  and  thirdly,  by  providing  a  channel  of  crea- 
tive interest  down  which  may  flow  the  energies  we 
wish  to  deflect  from  their  primitive  channel  of  mani- 
festation. 

The  key  to  the  whole  problem  lies  in  this,  the 
life  force  flows  to  the  point  of  interest.  If  the 
interest  and  attention  are  centred  upon  physical 
sensation,  then  the  life  force  will  flow,  or  attempt 
to  flow,  through  the  channel  of  the  reproductive 
organs,  or  if  denied  manifestation,  will  keep  up  a 
constant  irritation  and  stimulation;  but  if  the  interest 
be  shifted  to  an  emotional  or  mental  level,  then  the 
life  force  will  find  an  outlet  in  creative  activity  upon 
these  levels  and  drain  the  pressure  from  the  physical. 
The  mental  and  physical  habits  of  a  lifetime  are 
not  easily  broken,  but  if  the  thoughts  be  patiently 
and  persistently  kept  away  from  physical  sensation 
and  concentrated  upon  external  interests,  the  law 
of  mental  and  physical  habit  will  come  to  our  aid, 
and  the  life  force  will  learn  to  flow  through  its 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     55 

new  channel  with  safety  to  the  individual  and  benefit 
to  society. 

The  process  of  thought  control  must  not  be  con- 
fused with  the  dissociation  of  ideas.  In  dissociation 
we  are  dishonest  with  ourselves,  denying  that  cer- 
tain qualities  exist  in  our  natures;  the  ideas  con- 
nected with  them  are  repressed  into  our  subcon- 
sciousness, and  it  is  the  involuntary  subconscious 
censor  that  holds  them  down;  whereas  in  thought 
control  we  admit  the  primitive  side  of  our  natures 
and  set  to  work  to  train  it,  and  because  we  know 
that  dwelling  upon  mental  pictures  of  a  sexual  nature 
produces  a  physical  reaction,  we  exclude  these  ideas 
from  consciousness;  but  in  this  case  the  repression 
is  not  into  the  subconscious  mind,  but  into  the 
foreconscious,  and  it  is  one  of  the  voluntary  censors 
that  enforces  the  command  and  remains  under  our 
control. 

The  distinction  between  repression  and  dissocia- 
tion must  be  clearly  borne  in  mind  in  all  re-educa- 
tional work.  A  certain  amount  of  repression  is 
unavoidable  in  a  social  life;  for  each  individual  sacri- 
fices something  of  his  personal  desires  for  the  sake 
of  the  benefits  of  co-operation  with  his  fellows,  and 
the  energy  thus  sacrificed  is  turned  to  social  pur- 
poses. Dissociation,  however,  is  always  a  pathology, 
and  should  never  be  allowed  to  occur. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

MALADAPTATION  TO  ENVIRONMENT 
AND  PSYCHOPATHOLOGY 

The  classification  of  diseases  was  carried  out  at 
a  time  when  the  body  was  regarded  as  the  whole 
of  man  and  the  mind  looked  upon  as  an  unim- 
portant by-product  whose  influence  was  negligible. 
Modern  discovery,  however,  has  radically  changed 
our  outlook. 

Much  mental  disease  has  a  physical  origin  and 
should  not  be  classified  as  mental  at  all.  To  this 
class  belong  the  mental  disturbances  arising  from 
disease  of  or  injury  to  the  brain;  womb  trouble; 
poisoned  blood  conditions  and  the  faulty  function- 
ing of  the  ductless  glands,  whose  place  in  our  econ- 
omy is  so  important  and  so  little  understood;  and 
many  other  causes  of  a  like  nature. 

Setting  aside  this  type  of  disease,  with  which 
psychology,  strictly  speaking,  is  not  concerned,  we 
find  me  rue  mental  diseases  fall  into  a  first  broad 
division,  rhose  which  are  congenital  and  those  which 
are  acquired.  In  congenital  disease  an  abnormal 
individual  breaks  down  in  a  normal  environment, 
and  in  acquired  disease  a  normal  individual  breaks 
down  in  an  abnormal  environment.    In  both  cases 

56 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     57 

the  results  are  the  same,  but  treatment  and  prospect 
of  recovery  are  very  different. 

The  boundary  line  between  a  healthy  and  dis- 
eased mind  is  not  easy  to  draw,  but  we  may  reckon 
a  mind  diseased  when  it  fails  to  react  normally  to 

its  environment;  thus,  if  happenings  which  should 
stir  us  deeply  leave  us  unmoved,  or  we  are  upset  by 
things  which  should  have  no  power  to  disturb  us, 
we  may  consider  our  mind  is  not  working  well. 
Let  it  never  be  forgotten,  however,  that  mental  dis- 
turbance ranges  from  irritability,  depression,  and 
bad  memory,  to  its  extreme  manifestations  in  the 
different  forms  of  insanity. 

The  division  between  nervous  and  mental  disease 
is  even  harder  to  draw,  but  for  all  practical  pur- 
poses the  sense  of  reality  may  be  utilised  as  a  divid- 
ing line;  as  soon  as  he  loses  his  sense  of  reality  a 
man  passes  the  boundary  line  of  insanity.  The 
neurotic  knows  that  there  is  something  wrong  with 
him,  but  that  the  world  is  all  right ;  the  lunatic 
believes  that  he  is  all  right,  but  that  there  is  some- 
thing wrong  with  the  world. 

It  is  the  constant  aim  of  the  mind  to  maintain 
harmonious  relations  between  the  individual  and  the 
environment;  to  secure  an  adjustment  to,  and  to 
make  the  best  of,  the  constantly  varying  conditions 
to  which  the  organism  is  subjected.  If  it  fails  to 
do  this,  the  law  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest  comes 
into  action  and  automatically  eliminates  the  unfit — 


58      THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

those  who  have  failed  to  adapt  themselves  to  the 
conditions  in  which  they  live.  Failure  to  adapt 
may  be  due  to  one  of  two  causes:  the  individual 
may  be  abnormal,  or  the  environment  may  be  ab- 
normal. 

Modern  social  conditions  in  a  civilised  community 
tend  to  prevent  the  automatic  elimination  of  the 
unfit  and  to  permit  them  to  live  on.  With  physical 
failure  to  adapt,  due  to  malformation  or  lack  of 
stamina,  we  will  not  deal  here,  but  will  confine 
ourselves  to  the  problem  of  adjustment  on  the  mental 
level. 

If  there  is  difficulty  in  making  a  mental  adjust- 
ment to  environment  and  finding  contentment  and 
peace  of  mind,  then  the  individual  is  faced  by  a 
peculiar  problem,  he  is  allowed  to  continue  his 
physical  life,  but  cannot  find  mental  peace.  In  order 
to  obtain  relief  from  this  intolerable  condition,  cer- 
tain devices  are  unconsciously  resorted  to.  These 
devices  are  of  the  nature  of  buffers  or  shock  ab- 
sorbers, and  provided  the  individual  does  not  deviate 
too  much  from  the  normal  type,  which  is  adapted  to 
the  environment,  and  that  the  environment  likewise 
does  not  differ  too  much  from  the  type  for  which 
the  individual  was  designed,  then  these  devices  ef- 
fectually protect  his  feelings  from  the  rude  shocks 
of  circumstances  and  enable  him  to  keep  his  poise 
and  peace  of  mind. 

If,  however,  the  strain  thrown  upon  the  psychic 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND      59 

shock  absorber  is  too  great  for  it  adequately  to 
absorb,  then  the  rebound  of  the  buffer-springs  throws 
the  machinery  of  the  mind  out  of  gear  and  makes 
itself  felt  in  nervous  and  mental  disorders.  Like 
physical  disease,  mental  disease  is  Nature's  effort  at 
repair  which  overreaches  itself. 

This,  then,  is  what  constitutes  mental  disease  (the 
organic  insanities  being  excluded  from  this  defini- 
tion)— the  reaction  of  the  mind  tO'  what  it  cannot 
assimilate.  It  must  not  be  thought,  however,  that 
mental  disorder  necessarily  means  insanity.  Any 
faulty  functioning  of  the  mind  comes  under  the 
heading  of  psycho-pathology,  and  just  as  the  diseases 
of  the  body  range  from  a  passing  indisposition  to 
some  fatal  organic  disease,  so  the  diseases  of  the 
mind  range  from  irritability  and  forgetfulness  to  the 
complete  collapse  of  lunacy. 


CHAPTER  XV 
CONFLICT 

As  we  have  already  seen,  our  life  is  motived  by 
three  great  instincts.  A  moment's  thought,  how- 
ever, will  cause  us  to  realise  that,  as  these  instincts 
are  diverse  in  their  aims,  they  may  sometimes  find 
themselves  in  opposition  to  one  another ;  this  condi- 
tion is  known  to  psychologists  as  conflict,  wherein 
one  instinct  can  only  be  gratified  at  the  expense  of 
another.  For  instance,  a  man  may  be  starving,  and 
be  tempted  to  steal  in  order  to  satisfy  his  hunger. 
Here  we  see  a  conflict  between  the  self-preservation 
and  herd  instinct,  for  if  he  steals,  he  may  lose  his 
place  in  the  herd,  and  if  he  does  not  steal,  he  may 
lose  his  life,  and  it  is  astonishing  how  many  will 
choose  the  latter  alternative,  proving  the  power  and 
fundamental  nature  of  the  herd  instinct.  The  man 
will  be  torn  two  ways,  and  can  only  gratify  one 
instinct  at  the  expense  of  the  other. 

Or,  again,  he  may  fall  in  love  with  a  woman 
who  is  denied  to  him  by  the  marriage  laws  of  his 
country.  Here  we  see  a  conflict  between  the  sex 
instinct  and  the  herd  instinct.  Or  he  may  fall  in 
love  with  one  whom  it  would  be  disadvantageous 

socially  or  professionally  for  him  to  marry,  and  here 

60 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     61 

we  see  a  conflict  between  the  sex  and  self-preserva- 
tion instincts. 

Now,  in  each  of  these  cases  a  large  amount  of 
force  is  locked  up  and  rendered  unavailable  for 
the  general  purposes  of  the  life,  for  a  head-on 
collision  between  instincts  is  involved,  and  each  em- 
ploys the  whole  of  its  energy  to  neutralise  the  force 
of  the  other,  and  the  whole  life  comes  to  a  standstill 
while  the  battle  is  fought  out.  It  is  notorious  that 
an  individual  in  such  a  dilemma  can  come  to  no 
decision,  take  no  decisive  action,  in  any  department 
of  his  life.  Some  solution  has  to  be  arrived  at, 
and  any  solution  is  better  than  a  continuation  of  the 
conflict,  the  pain  of  which  is  intolerable. 

First,  the  man  may  think  the  whole  matter  out, 
and,  acting  according  to  his  nature,  give  the  victory 
to  one  or  other  of  the  combatants,  leaving  the  van- 
quished instinct  to  seek  adjustment  as  best  it  may. 
It  requires  great  strength,  however,  to  take  such  a 
stand,  and  many  are  not  able  to  do  it.  Some  seek 
a  solution  of  the  problem  by  keeping  the  instincts 
in  separate  compartments  of  the  mind,  and  never 
comparing  their  special  pleadings,  as  did  a  science 
teacher  known  to  the  writer,  who  on  weekdays  taught 
the  doctrines  of  evolution,  and  on  Sundays  the  doc- 
trine of  special  creation,  and  when  questioned  on 
the  matter,  burst  into  a  towering  passion  and  re- 
fused to  discuss  it. 

A  third  solution,  however,  is  very  often  found 


62      THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

by  the  perplexed  mind,  and  that  is  known  as  dis- 
sociation. 

Now,  REPRESSION  and  dissociation  are  two  terms 
current  in  modern  psychological  parlance,  and  the 
writer  has  often  heard  them  used  as  if  they  were 
interchangeable  terms,  but  this  is  not  the  case.  Re- 
pression means  that  certain  ideas  are  put  into  the 
subconscious  mind  and  not  permitted  to  return  to 
consciousness,  but  dissociation  means  that  some  of 
these  ideas,  instead  of  lying  quiet  in  the  subcon- 
scious, split  off  from  the  integration  of  the  person- 
ality and  function  independently.  These  two  factors 
of  mentation  will  be  studied  in  detail  in  the  follow- 
ing chapters. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
REPRESSION 

Repression  is  a  refusal  to  permit  an  idea  to  enter 
consciousness.  The  instant  it  looms  up  upon  the 
fringe  of  consciousness  the  attention  is  resolutely 
turned  away  from  it.  This  device  is  resorted  to 
when  an  idea  enters  the  mind  which  is  repugnant 
to  our  character,  when  we  find  ourselves  thinking 
thoughts  which  are  out  of  harmony  with  the  general 
tone  of  our  nature.  Unwilling  to  admit  to  ourselves 
that  we  have  such  a  side  to  our  dispositions,  we 
turn  away  from  the  repulsive  images;  but  as  it  is 
impossible  to  erase  from  the  mind  any  idea  which 
has  once  entered  it,  we  endeavour  to  store  these 
ideas,  since  they  must  be  stored  somewhere,  in  that 
part  which  is  furthest  away  from  consciousness, 
and  so,  to  use  the  technicalities  of  the  psychologist, 
we  repress  them  into  our  subconscious. 

When  it  is  remembered  that  every  child  is  bom 
into  the  world  a  little  savage,  and  that  it  is  only  by 
education  he  achieves  civilisation,  it  will  readily  be 
seen  that  our  primitive  nature  is  not  a  thing  which 
our  cultivated  self  can  regard  with  any  complacency. 
That  the  untrained  child  is  selfish  and  dirty,  we  are 

63 


64     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

all  aware ;  and  that  we  ourselves,  before  our  training 
had  time  to  take  effect  on  us,  were  also  selfish  and 
dirty,  we  cannot  with  logic  deny;  but  a  merciful 
veil  of  forgetfulness  has  been  drawn  across  this 
period,  for  we  have  developed  into  something  so 
different  from  what  we  were  that  our  primitive 
self  is  utterly  repugnant  to  us,  and  repression  is 
resorted  to  to  prevent  this  unpleasant  ghost  of  our 
original  natures  from  intruding  upon  our  self-es- 
teem. 

All  ideas  of  an  uncivilised  type  which  enter  the 
mind  are  apt  to  call  forth  a  certain  amount  of  re- 
sponse from  us — ^hence  the  success  of  the  smutty 
story — for  the  primitive  side  of  our  natures  is  not 
dead,  and  stirs  in  its  sleep  if  a  note  of  the  same 
pitch  is  sounded  in  its  hearing;  therefore  ideas  which 
wake  our  lower  nature  are  quickly  repressed  into 
the  subconscious  lest  they  should  be  translated  into 
action.  Repression  is  essentially  the  mechanism  of 
self-disgust. 

It  is  still  an  open  question  whether  repression 
is  normal  or  abnormal;  whether  it  is  part  of  the 
functioning  of  the  healthy  mind,  or  whether  it  is 
to  be  regarded  as  a  psychic  corn  or  callosity,  an 
endeavour  on  the  part  of  nature  to  reinforce  a  point 
of  pressure,  which,  though  intended  as  a  defence,  is 
apt  to  become  a  disease. 

The  part  played  by  consciousness  in  repression 
is  equally  an  open  question.     In  my  opinion,  an 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     65 

idea  must  be  present  to  consciousness  before  its 
nature  can  be  apprehended  and  the  judgment  formed 
which  leads  to  its  banishment. 

There  is  no  question  but  that,  if  we  were  strong 
enough,  we  could  deal  with  these  problems  in  the 
conscious  mind  by  means  of  thought  control,  and 
that  repression  is  only  resorted  to  when  the  first 
line  of  defence  has  gone  down  before  the  onslaught 
of  the  lower  side  of  our  natures.  Repression  may 
therefore  be  looked  upon  as  a  reaction  due  to  weak- 
ness; the  mind  that  was  perfectly  adapted  to  its 
environment  would  assimilate  all  experiences  and 
grow  stronger  in  the  process. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
DISSOCIATION 

While  the  device  of  repression  may  adequately- 
deal  with  many  of  the  unwelcome  thoughts  that 
intrude  themselves  upon  us,  it  is  not  capable  of 
doing  so  in  every  case,  and  then  the  process  is 
carried  a  stage  further,  and  dissociation  takes  place. 

Dissociation  is  pathological  forgetting.  Emotion 
is  the  life  of  an  idea.  In  ordinary  forgetting  a 
memory  sinks  into  the  subconscious  because  insuffi- 
cient interest  is  attached  to  it  to  enable  it  to  remain 
in  consciousness;  if,  however,  an  idea  associated 
with  some  strong  emotion  is  repressed  into  the 
subconscious,  that  emotion  will,  as  it  were,  vivify  it, 
and  cause  it  to  have  an  independent  life  of  its  own; 
it  splits  off  from  the  personality  and  is  said  to  be 
dissociated. 

It  will  be  noted  that  in  our  study  of  memory 

we  saw  that  ideas  never  remain  solitary,  but  tend 

to  form  associations  among  themselves,  or,  as  they 

are  technically  termed,  complexes.     The  dissociated 

idea  is  no  exception  to  this  rule;  not  only  does  it 

form   alliances   with   its    fellow   prisoners,   but   its 

66 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     67 

chains  of  associations  manage  to  evade  the  censor 
and  ramify  through  the  other  levels  of  the  mind 
with  far-reaching  consequences,  giving  rise  to  much 
of  the  illogicality  and  unreasonableness  which  dis- 
turb our  attempts  at  rational  thinking. 

We  have  already  noted  that  a  complex  is  a  group 
of  ideas  held  together  by  some  emotionally  toned 
interest ;  and  as  all  emotion  has  its  root  in  an  instinct, 
it  follows  that  all  complexes  must  be  affiliated  to 
one  or  other  of  the  instincts;  as  they  sink  into 
the  subconscious  they  therefore  go  down  the  channel 
of  the  instinct  to  which  they  belong,  and  as  they 
are  swimming  against  the  current  they  tend  to  block 
the  flow  of  that  particular  instinct  and  to  cause  it 
to  express  itself  through  the  subsidiary  channel 
which  they  are  endeavouring  to  open  up. 

It  can  readily  be  seen  that  serious  consequences 
must  arise  from  an  obstacle  lodged  in  the  fairway 
of  so  great  a  force  and  drawing  to  itself,  under 
the  law  of  association  of  ideas,  all  thoughts  that 
may  enter  the  mind  on  the  same  subject,  or  that 
have  a  real  or  symbolic  resemblance  to  it.  As  has 
been  truly  said,  the  subconscious  grows  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  conscious,  and  the  balance  of  the  mind 
is  upset;  the  thrust  of  life,  the  source  of  all  energy, 
instead  of  flowing  freely  from  level  to  level,  is 
blocked  by  the  complex  and  held  up  in  the  subcon- 
scious, causing  the  pressure  on  that  level  to  rise  to 
danger-point,  while  the  conscious  mind  is  sapped  of 


68      THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

its  vitality,  producing  an  individual  of  imperative 
and  chaotic  needs,  which  he  is  unable  to  formulate, 
even  to  himself,  and  with  no  power  to  give  them 
expression  or  obtain  their  satisfaction. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

SYMBOLISATION 

We  may  picture  the  dissociated  complex,  with  the 
pressure  of  an  instinct  behind  it,  constantly  seeking 
to  evade  the  censor  and  return  to  consciousness, 
where  its  wishes  can  be  translated  into  action;  and 
see  how  the  censor,  reinforced  by  the  whole  weight 
of  the  character,  resolutely  refuses  to  permit  its 
escape. 

We  have  seen  that  the  dissociated  complex,  fol- 
lowing the  ordinary  laws  of  association,  forms  alli- 
ances with  ideas  which  have  a  symbolical  or  fanciful 
connection  with  itself.  These  ideas,  not  being  in 
themselves  objectionable  to  the  character,  are  per- 
mitted by  the  censor  to  enter  consciousness;  then 
the  dissociated  complex,  taking  advantage  of  its  alli- 
ance with  them,  pours  its  bottled-up  emotion  along 
the  association-channels  thus  formed,  and  so  obtains 
an  outlet  into  consciousness,  giving  rise,  however, 
to  very  different  results  from  those  which  were  its 
original  intention,  and  producing  those  irrational 
likes,  dislikes,  and  eccentricities  which  are  character- 
istic of  the  person  whose  mind  is  not  working 
smoothly. 

An  example  of  this  is  shown  in  the  case  of  a 
woman  who  noticed  that  the  brass  plates  on  doctors' 


70     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

doors  had  a  peculiar  fascination  for  her;  when 
enquiry  was  made  into  her  history,  it  was  found 
that,  in  her  youth,  she  had  fallen  in  love  with  the 
family  physician,  who  was  a  married  man;  feeling 
this  affection  to  be  wrong,  she  had  firmly  put  it 
out  of  her  life  (i.e.,  put  it  into  her  subconscious). 
The  association  between  the  doctor  and  the  brass 
plate  was  obvious  enough,  but  as  brass  plates  were 
unobjectionable,  the  censor  offered  no  resistance  to 
them,  and  the  emotion  which  centred  round  the  doc- 
tor whose  image  was  buried  in  her  subconscious  was 
permitted  to  reach  consciousness  transferred  to  the 
innocent  brass  plate. 

The  subconscious  makes  use  of  symbolism  in 
precisely  the  same  way  that  the  poet  does,  but  it 
employs  a  device  which  the  poet  does  not,  it  re- 
members that  a  pair  of  opposites  have  a  connecting- 
link  in  their  very  polarity,  and  uses  a  negative  to 
express  a  positive,  if  the  positive  is  repugnant  to 
the  character.  Thus  an  unmarried  woman,  whose 
healthy  sex  instinct  has  been  denied  fulfilment 
through  husband  and  children,  may  become  morbid, 
and  read  literature  concerning  the  repression  of  the 
White  Slave  traffic  ad  nauseam;  and  becoming 
worse,  may  develop  what  is  called  old  maids'  in- 
sanity, and  imagine  that  perfectly  innocent  men  are 
pestering  her  with  immoral  attentions  (which  in  her 
heart  she  secretly  desires),  and  go  to  the  poHce  for 
protection. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
PHANTASIES,  DREAMS,  AND  DELUSIONS 

We  have  already  seen  that  emotion  is  intimately 
allied  with  instinct,  and  that  it  is  the  thrust  of  the 
urging  instincts  that  drives  us  to  action,  making  us 
seek  to  appease  the  needs  of  our  nature  and  inci- 
dentally fulfil  certain  racial  and  evolutionary  ends. 

Our  first  attempt,  urged  on  by  these  promptings, 
is  to  bring  about  the  realisation  of  our  desires  in 
the  external  world  by  means  of  bodily  effort;  but 
should  this  effort  fail  to  achieve  its  purpose,  or 
should  circumstances  deny  us  the  opportunity  to 
make  this  effort  with  any  hope  of  success,  then  the 
mind  often  falls  back  upon  a  secondary  achievement, 
and  images  its  success  in  the  realms  of  phantasy 
and  make-believe,  where  there  are  no  laws  of  cause 
and  effect  to  check  its  operations,  and  Cinderella 
in  her  kitchen  constructs  a  phantasy  of  the  Prince's 
ball.  She  sees  her  wish  acted  out  to  its  fulfilment 
in  the  theatre  of  her  mind. 

This  factor  in  our  nature  influences  a  large  pro- 
portion of  our  mental  processes,  and  is  considered 
to  be  the  chief  factor  in  determining  the  nature, 
not  only  of  our  dreams,  but  also  of  the  symptoms 
of  nervous  and  mental  diseases,  as  will  be  seen  later. 

During  sleep  the  avenues  of  the  physical  senses, 

71 


72     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

whereby  impressions  reach  the  mind,  are  more  or 
less  closed,  and  the  ego,  which  never  ceases  its 
activities,  is  thrown  back  upon  the  resources  of  its 
memories.  Unguided  by  the  reason  and  judgment, 
it  reviews  these,  following  along  the  chains  of 
associated  ideas  according  to  the  laws  of  memory, 
which  we  considered  in  an  earlier  chapter. 

These  wanderings,  however,  though  carried  out 
with  the  illogicality  which  distinguishes  the  lower 
levels  of  our  mind,  are  not  entirely  purposeless,  being 
determined  by  various  factors.  It  may  be  that  physi- 
cal or  sensory  impressions,  dimly  discerned  during 
sleep  through  the  partially  closed  doors  of  the  senses, 
will  give  rise  to  a  train  of  thought,  or  the  matters 
upon  which  the  mind  has  been  busied  during  the 
day  may  continue  to  occupy  it  in  an  undirected 
fashion  during  sleep;  but  the  dream-determining 
element  to  which  most  attention  has  been  directed 
in  modern  psychology  is  the  upsurging  of  the  in- 
stinctive wishes  which  have  been  denied  fulfilment 
in  waking  life,  so  that  in  our  dreams  we  see  real- 
ised, as  in  phantasy,  the  wishes  which  have  failed 
to  gain  realisation  in  reality,  or  may  even  have  failed 
to  gain  access  to  our  consciousness  owing  to  the 
operation  of  the  censor  which  strives  to  exclude  from 
consciousness  all  distressing  or  repulsive  matters; 
for  in  sleep  all  our  painfully  acquired  civilisation 
falls  away  from  us,  the  higher  centres  of  our  being 
are  in  abeyance,   and  our  primitive,   natural   self, 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     73 

controlled  but  never  abolished,  expresses  its  funda- 
mental, untutored  desires  in  their  elemental  form. 

These  wishes,  however,  are  seldom  expressed  di- 
rectly. So  foreign  are  they  to  our  civilised  selves 
that  even  in  sleep  our  habits  of  thinking  assert 
themselves  and  exercise  some  check  upon  what  shall 
be  expressed ;  but  they  are  generally  distorted  almost 
beyond  recognition  by  the  substitutions  of  more  ac- 
ceptable ideas  for  crude  images  of  instinctive  needs, 
and  as  the  subconscious  mind  links  ideas  together 
according  to  their  superficial  or  accidental  associa- 
tions, it  will  be  seen  that  strange  and  tangled  dramas 
will  be  acted  out  upon  the  stage  of  the  mind  in  an 
effort  to  represent  the  fulfilment  of  some  primitive 
instinctive  wish. 

Modern  methods  of  psychological  research  make 
much  use  of  dreams  in  the  effort  to  investigate 
the  levels  of  the  mind  to  which  we  have  no  direct 
access,  and  psychotherapy  uses  the  same  method  in 
order  to  trace  the  disorders  of  the  mind  to  their 
cause.  For  if  the  train  of  thought  which  the  mind 
has  followed  in  its  progression  from  a  crude  instinc- 
tive, often  physical,  wish  to  the  completed  dream- 
drama  be  traced  back  again  from  the  images  of  the 
dream  to  the  underlying  ideas  which  gave  rise  to 
them,  we  can  lay  bare  the  hidden  springs  of  motive 
and  character;  hence  the  great  use  that  has  been 
made  of  the  method  of  dream  analysis  in  modern 
psychotherapy. 


74      THE  MACHINERY  OF   THE  MIND 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  delusions  of 
lunatics  are  constructed  upon  exactly  the  same  prin- 
ciples as  the  phantasies  of  our  castles  in  the  air; 
they  also  represent  the  fulfilment  of  wishes  that 
have  been  denied  their  realisation,  and  have  achieved 
their  ultimate  form  through  the  same  primitive 
methods  of  thinking  that  are  responsible  for  our 
dreams;  in  fact,  they  may  be  looked  upon  as  a 
phantasy  which  has  progressed  a  step  nearer  realisa- 
tion than  the  day-dream. 

The  symptoms  of  the  hysteric  have  a  similar 
origin,  but  represent  the  wishes  of  dissociated  com- 
plexes instead  of  the  wishes  of  the  whole  person- 
ality as  happens  in  insanity. 

Thus  we  may  see  that,  should  our  desires  be 
denied  expression  in  our  lives,  they  will  construct 
dream  castles  for  themselves  during  sleep  in  which 
we  may  temporarily  dwell  as  monarch  of  all  we 
survey;  and  should  these  desires  be  very  imperative, 
should  a  large  part  of  our  nature  be  involved  in 
them,  then  the  dream  may  overflow  into  waking  con- 
sciousness, and  we  shall  live  among  our  own  sub- 
jective mind  pictures,  instead  of  among  objective 
realities,  and  act  out  the  part  we  have  assigned  our- 
selves in  the  dream-drama,  to  the  consternation  of 
onlookers  who  pronounce  us  insane. 

The  lunatic,  however,  is  not  irrational,  he  is  abso- 
lutely rational  if  once  his  premises  be  granted,  for  he 
carries  the  logical  deductions  from  these  premises 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE   MIND      75 

to  their  ultimate  conclusion.  And  once  it  be  real- 
ised that  some  fundamental  and  essentially  natural 
wish  lies  at  the  root  of  these  phantasies  which  we 
see  him  acting  out,  then  we  shall  see  that  the  clue 
to  the  treatment  of  insanity  lies  in  these  wishes  and 
the  region  of  the  mind  that  gives  rise  to  them. 


CHAPTER  XX 
PSYCHOTHERAPY 

While  many  forms  of  mental  disease  have  a  physi- 
cal origin  in  the  brain,  nervous  system,  and  state 
of  the  blood,  many  others  are  purely  mental  from 
beginning  to  end,  although  the  body  may  be  chosen 
as  the  scene  of  some  of  their  manifestations. 
Modern  medicine  is  learning  to  deal  with  mental 
diseases  by  mental  methods,  and  of  these  the 
principal  types  may  be  of  interest.  It  must  be 
remembered,  however,  that  psychotherapy  is  the 
youngest  of  the  sciences,  and  is  still  in  its  experi- 
mental stage;  and  that  though  magnificent  work 
has  been  done  by  the  pioneers,  they  cannot 
claim  to  have  said  the  last  word  upon  the  structure 
of  the  human  mind,  for  even  if  they  knew  all 
that  was  to  be  known,  leaving  nothing  to  be  dis- 
covered by  future  investigation,  which  they 
would  be  the  last  to  claim  on  their  own  behalf, 
though  their  disciples  are  not  always  blessed 
with  the  same  modesty  of  genius,  evolution  is  mov- 
ing on,  with  the  human  mind  at  its  apex,  so  that 
statements  which  were  true  of  human  nature  before 

the  Great  War  may  have  to  be  modified  and  supple- 

76 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND      77 

merited  when  the  Great  Peace  becomes  an  estab- 
lished fact. 

Our  knowledge  of  the  mind,  its  diseases  and 
therapy,  is  far  from  complete.  The  investigation 
of  each  human  mind  is  in  the  nature  of  a  voyage 
of  discovery;  though  the  coastline  of  the  mental 
landscape  may  be  known  to  us,  the  hinterland  is 
unmapped.  We  do  not  know  what  lies  behind  the 
human  personality;  we  are  equally  ignorant  of  the 
exact  nature  of  its  relations  with  its  environment, 
and  while  our  knowledge  is  in  this  state  we  cannot 
speak  upon  any  point  with  finality. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 

The  foundations  of  this  method  and  theory  were 
laid  by  Sigmund  Freud  of  Vienna,  and  set  forth 
by  him  in  his  epoch-making  book,  the  Interpretation 
of  Dreams,  pubHshed  in  1900.  Two  schools  of 
psychoanalysis  exist  at  the  present  time :  the  Vienna 
school,  which  adheres  strictly  to  the  doctrines  of 
Freud;  and  the  Zurich  school,  which  subscribes  to 
a  modification  of  these  doctrines  as  taught  by  Dr. 
Jung. 

While  both  schools  agree  upon  general  principles 
as  to  the  anatomy  of  the  mind,  they  differ  in 
their  teaching  as  to  the  modus  operandi  of  mental 
disease.  Freud  holds  that  functional  nervous  dis- 
orders are  due  to  the  retention  by  the  subconscious 
mind  of  an  infantile  attitude  towards  life,  and  espe- 
cially towards  sex,  and  that  this  attitude,  which 
should  have  been  outgrown  and  left  behind,  sets 
up  stresses  and  strains  in  the  mind  which  lead  to 
the  manifestations  of  mental  disease.  He  gives  us 
the  concept  of  the  accumulation  of  emotion  in  this 
wound  in  the  mind,  just  as  pus  accumulates  in  an 

abscess,  giving  rise  to  tenderness  and  pain.    He  con- 

78 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND      79 

ceives  the  function  of  the  psychoanalyst  to  be  to 
lance  this  abscess  by  bringing  the  subject  of  distress 
into  consciousness,  whereby  the  repressed  emotion  is 
realised  and  fully  experienced,  and  thereby  got  rid 
of.     This  process  is  technically  known  as  abreac- 

TION. 

The  psychologist  who  conducts  the  analysis  is 
very  likely  to  be  the  recipient  of  this  repressed 
emotion  because,  at  the  moment  of  its  arrival  in 
consciousness,  he  is  apt  to  be  standing  in  the  line 
of  lire.  This  acceptance  of  the  repressed  emotion 
by  the  operator  is  conceived  to  be  a  most  important 
phase  of  the  cure,  and  is  known  as  the  transfer- 
ence. 

That  this  factor  of  the  transference  opens  a  door 
to  most  serious  difficulties  and  dangers  cannot  be 
denied.  The  via  media  between  undue  influence 
and  callous  indifference  is  hard  to  find.  It  is  main- 
tained that  more  analysis  will  work  off  the  emotion 
which  much  analysis  has  succeeded  in  lying  bare, 
but  in  actual  practice  the  process  is  not  so  simple 
and  often  leads  to  complications. 

This  transference  of  emotion  to  the  analyst,  to- 
gether with  the  deleterious  effects  of  continual  and 
prolonged  dwelling  upon  the  unsavoury  aspects  of 
life  which  takes  place  in  a  psychoanalysis,  consti- 
tute serious  objections  to  this  method  of  therapy. 

Jung  holds  that  mental  disease  is  due  to  a  failure 
of  adaptation  in  the  present,  leading  to  regression 


80      THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

to  an  infantile  mode  of  thinking.  It  will  thus  be 
seen  that  the  two  theories,  while  based  upon  the 
same  data,  are  fundamentally  different,  and  must 
lead  to  differences  in  practical  application. 

Both  schools  explore  the  subconscious  mind  by 
means  of  dream  analysis,  and  to  this  method  the 
Zurich  school  also  adds  the  method  known  as  word 
reaction.  The  process  of  dream  analysis  is  extreme- 
ly complicated.  Briefly,  the  patient  is  instructed  to 
recount  a  dream,  and  this  dream  is  then  taken  point 
by  point,  and  the  "  free  associations  "  traced  out  in 
the  following  manner.  He  is  instructed  to  take  an 
image  in  his  dream  as  a  starting-point,  turn  his  mind 
loose,  and  watch  where  it  goes,  the  theory  being  that 
it  will  retrace  the  association  train  of  ideas  by 
which  the  dream  image  was  derived  from  the  under- 
lying wish.  An  elaborate  technique  exists  for  in- 
terpreting these  dream  images ;  so  elaborate  as  to  be 
beyond  the  scope  of  the  present  volume.  How  much 
of  this  technique  is  sound  and  how  much  is  arbitrary 
is  still  a  matter  of  opinion  among  psychologists ;  we 
have  little  data  as  yet  as  to  the  part  played  by  unin- 
tentional suggestion  on  the  part  of  the  psychoan- 
alyst, no  doubt  a  considerable  factor  in  some  cases, 
and  an  exceedingly  falsifying  and  misleading  one. 

The  word  association  method  of  Jung  is  less 
open  to  objection  on  the  ground  of  arbitrariness, 
and  its  operation  is  simpler.  A  list  of  anything 
from  a  dozen  to  a  hundred  or  more  words  is  made 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     81 

out.  The  first  half-dozen  words  have  usually  no 
particular  significance,  but  then  follow  a  series  of 
words  believed  to  be  specially  associated  with  the 
different  types  of  complex  which  may  become  split 
off  from  consciousness;  lists  of  these  have  been 
worked  out  by  different  students  of  this  school,  but 
although  one  of  these  lists  is  usually  used  as  a  basis, 
the  analyst  generally  inserts  words  which  he  believes 
will  especially  bear  upon  the;  patient's  particular 
problems.  These  words  are  called  out  to  the  patient, 
one  at  a  time,  and  he  is  instructed  to  utter  the  first 
word  that  comes  into  his  head  in  connection  with 
each.  The  time  he  takes  to  do  this  is  taken  by  a 
stop-watch  usually  working  to  one-fifth  of  a  second. 
The  first  half-dozen  of  unimportant  words  will  show 
the  patient's  average  reaction  time,  but  if  any  words 
among  the  subsequent  ones  have  special  significance 
for  him,  there  will  be  a  perceptible  lengthening  of 
the  time  he  takes  to  reply ;  moreover  the  replies  may 
be  curious,  and  either  show  special  bearing  upon  his 
problems,  or,  by  their  irrelevancy,  show  that  the 
original  idea  was  discarded  as  unspeakable  and  a 
substitute  hastily  extemporised.  If  the  list  be  read 
over  again  it  will  be  found  that,  whereas  those 
words  which  have  no  special  significance  are  usu- 
ally responded  to  by  the  same  reaction  word,  those 
which  bear  upon  the  patient's  emotions  produce  a 
change  in  the  reaction  word.  Free  association  is 
then  resorted  to,  as  in  the  case  of  dream  symbols, 


^IChO 


82     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

to  discover  the  underlying  train  of  ideas  and  the 
factors  in  the  subconscious  from  which  they  derive 
their  emotion. 

Many  Freudians  make  use  of  this  method  also, 
and  indeed  the  two  methods  of  dream  analysis  and 
word  association  are  generally  regarded  as  supple- 
mentary. The  chief  value  of  the  latter  lies  in  the 
fact  that  it  can  be  used  in  cases  where  the  patient 
is  either  unable  or  reluctant  to  co-operate. 

The  difference  in  the  view-point  of  the  two  schools 
of  psychoanalysis  leads  to  a  difference  in  the  method 
of  handling  the  patient;  the  Freudian  who  believes 
that  all  nerve  trouble  is  due  to  the  retention  of 
infantile  habits  of  thinking,  confines  himself  to  anal- 
ysis and  nothing  but  analysis,  offering  the  patient 
little  or  nothing  in  the  way  of  explanation  or  in- 
struction, but  simply  aiding  him  to  lay  bare  the 
depths  of  his  subconscious  mind,  believing  that  by 
so  doing  pent-up  emotions  will  be  worked  off  and 
split-off  complexes  reassociated  to  the  personality. 
The  disciple  of  Jung,  on  the  other  hand,  believing 
that  the  trouble  is  due  to  a  present  failure  of 
adaptation,  though  using  the  psychoanalytic  method 
to  reveal  and  bring  into  consciousness  the  dissociated 
complexes,  uses  a  considerable  amount  of  teaching 
and  explanation  in  an  endeavour  to  enable  the  patient 
to  assimilate  the  fruits  of  experience  and  adapt  him- 
self to  his  environment.  The  Freudian  complains 
that  the  follower  of  Jung  beclouds  the  issue  by  unin- 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND      83 

tentional  suggestion,  and  the  latter  accuses  the  for- 
mer of  unnecessarily  prolonging  the  process  by  leav- 
ing the  patient  to  find  his  own  way  unaided  by  a 
wider  experience. 

The  teaching  and  explanatory  method,  generally 
known  as  re-education,  is  chiefly  associated  with 
the  name  of  du  Bois,  who  was  its  original  exponent, 
but  as,  in  his  day,  the  psychoanalytic  method  of 
investigating  the  causes  of  mental  disease  was  un- 
known, he  was  often  groping  in  the  dark,  and  deal- 
ing with  secondary  symptoms  and  effects,  so  that 
his  method  fell  into  disrepute  in  the  eyes  of  the 
new  school;  but  that  this  method,  wisely  handled, 
can  be  of  great  benefit  in  expediting  a  cure  and 
lessening  the  painfulness  of  the  process  is  beyond 
gainsay. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

HYPNOSIS,  SUGGESTION,  AND 
AUTOSUGGESTION 

Much  popular  misapprehension  exists  with  regard 
to  the  phenomenon  known  as  hypnosis.  It  may 
briefly  be  described  as  a  condition  in  which  the  rea- 
son and  judgment  of  the  subject  are  in  temporary 
abeyance,  and  any  idea  presented  to  him  will  be 
accepted  without  reflection,  and  take  so  strong  a 
hold  upon  the  mind  that  it  will  act  itself  out  almost 
automatically.  This  condition  of  passive  receptivity 
graduates  from  slight  abstraction,  almost  undistin- 
guishable  from  normal  consciousness,  to  a  condition 
resembling  sleep,  or  the  cataleptic  rigidity  of  deep 
trance.  Its  manifestations  and  characteristics  are 
manifold  and  most  curious  and  instructive,  but  be- 
yond the  scope  of  the  present  work. 

Different  hypnotists  use  different  methods  of  in- 
ducing this  condition,  but  the  main  factor  in  all 
of  them  is  the  fixation  and  arrestation  of  the  atten- 
tion and  the  use  of  suggestion.  It  is  generally 
held  that  it  is  autosuggestion  on  the  part  of  the 
subject,  induced  by  the  hypnotist,  that  is  the  crux 

of  the  whole  problem,  and  that  without  this  internal 

84 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     85 

co-operation,  which  is  often  of  an  unconscious  and 
involuntary  nature,  the  work  of  the  operator  would 
be  unavailing. 

Hypnosis  is  the  oldest  known  method  of  psycho- 
therapy, and,  in  conjunction  with  psychoanalysis, 
is  coming  to  the  front  again  in  the  treatment  of 
nervous  cases  and  especially  of  shell  shock. 

The  term  suggestion  is  apt  to  be  used  somewhat 
loosely  to  denote  any  concept  offered  by  one  person 
to  another,  but  in  its  psychological  sense  it  is  used 
to  denote  those  ideas  which  are  slipped  into  the 
mind  of  a  person  without  being  submitted  to  his 
judgment;  in  its  psychotherapeutic  sense,  however, 
it  is  reserved  for  the  process  of  inserting  ideas  in 
the  mind  while  the  patient  is  in  a  state  of  artificially 
induced  drowsiness,  but  not  unconscious  under  deep 
hypnosis. 

Autosuggestion,  or  the  insertion  of  ideas  in  the 
subconscious  by  the  conscious  mind  of  the  person 
concerned,  has  been  reduced  to  a  therapeutic  system 
by  the  New  Nancy  School  of  psychology,  and  is 
associated  with  the  name  of  Emile  Coue.  It  is  held 
by  this  school  that  suggestibility,  or  the  faculty  of 
permitting  ideas  to  sO'  possess  the  mind  that  they 
express  themselves  in  action,  is  a  normal  human  fac- 
ulty; and  although  it  is  the  cause  of  many,  or  even 
most  of  the  ills  that  both  mind  and  body  are  heir 
to,  it  is  not  in  itself  a  morbid  condition,  but  is  a 
necessary   factor  in  educability,   evil  only  arising 


86      THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

when  wrong  ideas  exploit  this  faculty.  We  can, 
however,  equally  well  make  use  of  it  for  the  expres- 
sion of  good  ideas,  with  great  benefit  to  our  char- 
acter and  health.  Suggestion,  and,  in  intractable 
cases,  hypnosis,  is  made  use  of  by  the  New  Nancy 
School,  not  as  a  direct  remedial  method,  but  to 
teach  the  use  of  autosuggestion  whereby  the  patient 
cures  himself  and  is  able  to  prevent  any  recru- 
descence of  his  malady.  It  is  claimed  that  this 
method  increases  a  person's  self-reliance  instead  of 
undermining  it,  and  is  of  the  greatest  value,  not  only 
as  a  therapeutic  agent,  but  as  an  educational  method, 
and  its  use  in  this  aspect  is  urged.  But  although 
it  is  of  acknowledged  value  in  the  cure  of  disease, 
it  is  questionable  whether  it  might  not  lead  to  arti- 
ficiality and  warping  of  the  nature  if  applied  to  the 
growing  mind  that  was  developing  along  normal 
lines.  Only  the  most  judicious  guidance  could  avoid 
this  pitfall. 

It  is  impossible  in  a  book  of  this  nature  to  give 
a  knowledge  of  the  psychotherapeutic  methods  that 
can  be  of  any  practical  use;  the  reader  must  refer 
to  the  many  text-books  upon  the  subject  if  such  is 
desired.  It  must,  however,  be  realised  that  the  mod- 
ern methods  of  dealing  with  the  mind  are  extremely 
potent,  and  that  it  is  possible  to  completely  wreck  a 
nature  by  their  injudicious  use.  A  knowledge,  how- 
ever, of  the  principles  of  mental  hygiene  can  be 
nothing  but  beneficial,  though  the  actual  treatment 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     87 

of  mental  or  nervous  disease  should  be  avoided  by 
the  amateur,  for,  whatever  his  theoretical  knowledge, 
the  practical  experience  of  hospital  and  asylum  work 
can  alone  give  accuracy  of  diagnosis.  The  begin- 
nings of  certain  forms  of  insanity  are  very  hard 
to  distinguish  from  nerve  trouble,  even  by  the  expert, 
and  the  amateur  who  tries  his  prentice  hand  upon 
such  a  case  by  mistake  is  likely  to  have  his  error 
painfully  and  forcibly  impressed  upon  his  mind. 

Psychotherapy  is  the  youngest  of  the  sciences 
and  in  a  state  of  vigorous  and  healthy  growth, 
but  there  is  as  yet  no  orthodox  body  of  doctrine 
which  is  regarded  as  being  thoroughly  established 
and  accepted  by  all  schools  of  thought.  The  lay 
reader,  for  whom  this  book  is  designed,  would  do 
well  to  be  on  his  guard  against  dogmatic  expressions 
of  opinion  which  may  be  presented  to  him,  either 
in  lecture  or  in  print,  for  our  knowledge  is  not  in 
a  state  to  warrant  them.  We  have  learnt  much,  but 
we  do  not  know  all,  and  until  we  know  much  more 
than  we  do  now,  we  must  keep  an  open  mind  and 
judge  tentatively.  The  popular  vogue  of  applied 
psychology  among  those  who  are  not  in  a  position 
to  form  first-hand  opinions  makes  this  warning  nec- 
essary. There  is  no  "  truth  once  and  for  all  deliv- 
ered "  by  a  prophet  on  a  mountain,  but  an  earnest 
band  of  men  and  women  adding  stone  by  stone  to 
the  temple  of  human  knowledge. 

The  various  methods  of  psychotherapy  outlined 


88      THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

here  have  each  and  all  their  value,  but  no  one  of 
them  is  a  panacea  for  all  the  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to ; 
the  science  is  in  its  infancy,  and  the  percentage  of 
cure  is  by  no  means  satisfactory.  There  is  no 
standard  of  training  for  either  medical  men  or  lay 
analysts  and  owing  to  the  great  emphasis  laid  upon 
sex  by  the  modern  schools,  the  method  is  open  to 
grave  abuses  in  inexpert  or  unclean  hands. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  PRACTICAL  APPLICATION  OF 
PSYCHOLOGY 

Those  who  have  read  the  foregoing  pages  will  see 
that  there  are  certain  broad  divisions  into  which 
they  fall.  Let  us  now  review  these  divisions  in 
their  relation  to  the  practical  art  of  living. 

The  first  great  division  we  studied  was  concerned 
with  the  levels  into  which  the  mind  was  divided 
and  the  types  of  thinking  which  were  carried  on 
in  each  of  them.  The  problems  of  memory  and 
concentration  are  closely  concerned  with  these  levels 
and  the  interrelations  between  them.  If  an  idea, 
after  entering  the  mind,  disappears  into  the  sub- 
conscious, we  say  it  is  forgotten  and  regard  it  as 
lost.  This,  we  have  seen,  is  not  the  case,  however. 
It  is  stored  in  the  subconscious,  and  we  can  make 
use  of  it  even  if  we  cannot  gain  direct  access  to 
it.  There  is  an  old  story  concerning  the  advice  that 
was  given  to  a  judge  newly  raised  to  the  bench, 
"  Give  your  decision,  it  is  probably  right ;  but  do 
not  give  your  reasons,  they  are  very  likely  to  be 
wrong."  Which  is  merely  a  pithy  way  of  saying: 
"  Let  your  subconscious  work  out  your  decision  in 

89 


90      THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

the  light  of  the  enormous  masses  of  data  it  pos- 
sesses, including  the  exact  reproduction  of  every 
law-book  you  have  ever  read,  every  remark,  how- 
ever casual,  you  have  ever  heard,  together  with  the 
accumulated  experience  of  your  race,  all  of  which 
you  are  heir  to,  and  it  will  probably  be  right;  but 
if  you  try  to  rationalise  this  decision,  to  explain  it 
in  terms  of  your  conscious  knowledge,  you  may 
make  mistakes,  because  your  conscious  mind  does  not 
know  nearly  as  much  as  your  subconscious." 

If  we  would  learn  to  trust  our  subconscious 
methods  of  thinking,  we  should  be  astonished  to 
find  what  they  are  capable  of.  Genius  might  be 
defined  as  the  power  of  utilising  the  subconscious 
mind,  and  inspiration  as  a  subliminal  uprush. 

Memory  also  can  be  greatly  improved  by  taking 
advantage  of  the  faculty  of  association  of  ideas,  a 
faculty  upon  which  the  different  memory  systems 
are  founded.  If  we  take  any  idea  we  wish  to  re- 
member and  clearly  image  it  in  association  with 
some  idea  of  the  same  class  that  is  so  familiar  to  us 
that  it  is  a  permanent  part  of  our  mental  furniture, 
then  the  two  concepts  will  get  stuck  together,  and 
we  can  always  use  the  second  to  summon  the  first. 

The  instincts  and  their  development  and  method 
of  functioning  form  a  second  great  division  of  our 
subject.  It  will  be  seen  that  we  must  view  our  life 
in  relation  to  the  instincts  and  not  to  the  reason, 
but  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the  instincts  them- 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE   MIND      91 

selves  are  evolving  or  rather  perhaps  becoming  modi- 
fied in  their  expressions  by  the  pressure  of  new 
conditions,  and  in  the  course  of  their  evolution  are 
being  steadily  socialised  and  civilised,  so  although 
we  must  realise  that,  in  their  primitive  form,  they 
lie  at  the  base  of  our  being,  yet  in  their  evolved 
form  they  also  function  at  its  apex,  and  that  if  we 
are  to  live  well,  we  must  harmonise  their  manifesta- 
tion upon  every  level  of  our  being. 

The  third  and  most  important  division,  from  the 
standpoint  of  practical  living,  is  that  which  deals 
with  the  mechanisms  by  means  of  which  the  mind 
adapts  itself  to  its  environment.  We  should  make 
it  our  aim  to  achieve  adaptation  in  the  conscious 
mind  by  absorbing  and  assimilating  all  experience, 
realising  that  we  can  learn  our  lessons  from  that 
which  is  evil  as  well  as  from  that  which  is  good, 
and  that  any  experience,  however  evil,  from  which 
we  learn  a  lesson  is  converted  from  poison  into 
food. 

While  it  is  necessary  that  certain  types  of  ideas 
should  be  repressed  lest  they  should  translate  them- 
selves into  action,  let  us  never  forget  that  repression 
need  not  necessarily  imply  dissociation,  which  is  an 
unmixed  evil.  Dissociation  would  never  occur  if 
we  were  honest  with  ourselves.  When  we  refuse 
to  admit,  even  to  ourselves,  that  our  nature  possesses 
certain  primitive  aspects,  we  prevent  the  ideas  con- 
nected   with    these    aspects    from    being    affiliated 


92      THE   MACHINERY  OF   THE  MIND 

to  our  personality  and  taking  their  place  in  our 
mental  life;  they  therefore  become  foreign  bodies  in 
the  mind,  technically  termed  dissociated  complexes, 
which  function  independently  of  the  main  ego  com- 
plex. 

Instead  of  taking  this  attitude,  let  us  recognise 
the  existence  of  these  primitive  impulses  in  our- 
selves; and  when  we  find  their  manifestations  ob- 
truding themselves,  let  us  gently  but  firmly  put  them 
in  their  place,  and  see  to  it  that  they  do  not  obtain 
the  upper  hand. 

Let  us  never  forget  the  enormous  power  of  auto- 
suggestion, for  the  subconscious  mind  will  tend  to 
translate  into  action  any  image  that  is  presented  to 
it  sufficiently  vividly,  especially  if  that  image  be 
charged  with  emotion.  Let  us  therefore  be  very 
careful  what  mental  pictures  we  permit  ourselves 
to  dwell  upon  persistently,  whether  with  fear  or 
desire,  for  they  will  mould  our  lives  and  even  our 
circumstances  to  an  extent  we  little  realise. 

Our  whole  aim  should  be  to  maintain  the  integrity 
of  the  personality,  to  prevent  any  splitting  off  of 
complexes  of  ideas,  and  to  see  that  the  instincts, 
welling  up  in  the  deeper  levels  of  our  nature,  should 
find  their  channels  clear  and  unobstructed,  so  that 
they  may  flow  out  into  action  on  the  higher  levels 
of  our  life. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
CONCLUSION 

It  has  been  said  that  there  is  no  scrap  of  knowledge 
concerning  the  remotest  star  which  will  not,  sooner 
or  later,  be  found  to  have  its  bearing  upon  the 
problems  of  human  life,  and  we  may  well  ask  what 
the  science  of  human  nature  itself  has  to  contribute 
to  the  solution  of  our  daily  problems. 

The  practical  application  of  psychology  has  cer- 
tain well-defined  spheres.  Its  bearing  upon  educa- 
tion has  long  been  recognised,  and  much  valuable 
work  done  in  relation  to  the  study  of  the  child  mind. 
The  psychology  of  fatigue,  in  relation  to  industrial 
efficiency,  has  also  found  recognition  as  a  branch  of 
applied  science  not  without  its*practical  value.  The 
field  of  social  problems  is  still  largely  awaiting  ex- 
ploration, and  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the 
study  of  the  psychology  of  the  criminal  and  unem- 
ployable would  yield  results  of  the  greatest  social 
value. 

At  the  present  moment,  it  is  the  field  of  abnormal 
psychology  that  holds  the  focus  of  attention.  That 
inestimably  valuable  results  are  being  obtained  in 
this  field  of  study  no  one  can  dispute,  but  its  value 
is  not  confined  to  the  relief  of  disease  alone,  but, 

93 


94.     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

as  the  research  is  progressing  deeper,  to  the  revela- 
tion of  the  conditions  that  give  rise  to  disease.  Just 
as  the  study  of  pathology  gave  'us  the  science  of 
hygiene,  so  the  study  of  mental  diseases  is  showing 
us  the  way  to  healthier  thinking.  It  is  teaching  us 
that  any  abnormal  attitude  towards  life  will  produce 
mental  discomfort,  if  not  actual  disease,  and  it  is 
showing  us,  just  as  physiological  hygiene  has  shown 
us,  that  if  the  developing  intelligence  of  man  leads 
him  to  depart  from  primitive  conditions  wherein 
the  instincts  are  sufficient  guides,  then  he  must  also 
apply  his  reason  to  the  new  problems  to  which  the 
new  conditions  give  rise,  and  not  leave  the  solution 
of  these  to  instincts  which  are  only  fitted  for  the 
simplest  form  of  functioning.  The  instinct  of  com- 
bativeness,  or  the  instinct  of  flight,  will  not  conduct 
the  evolutions  of  a  modern  army,  and  neither  will 
the  primitive  impulses  enable  man  to  live  well  and 
happily  in  conditions  which  elaborate  mental  proc- 
esses have  built  up — as  witness  the  terrible  preva- 
lence of  unsolved  sex  problems  beneath  the  fair  show 
of  our  civilisation.  Two-thirds,  if  not  more,  of 
nerve  trouble  have  their  origin  in  the  efforts  of  a 
primitive  instinct  to  function  under  civilised  condi- 
tions and  its  failure  to  make  the  adaptation.  We 
need  to  take  our  instincts  out  of  the  region  of  the 
subconscious  and  apply  our  reason  to  them  if  we 
are  to  solve  the  problems  that  press  upon  us. 

Throughout  this  book  it  will  have  been  seen  that 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     95 

stress  has  been  laid  upon  the  functioning  and  activity 
of  those  levels  of  the  mind  that  are  below  the 
threshold  of  consciousness,  and  that  it  has  been 
pointed  out  that  the  instincts,  and  not  the  reason, 
are  the  key  to  the  human  mind.  But  it  has  also 
been  shown  that  the  mind  is  in  a  state  of  evolution, 
and  that  reason,  as  its  latest  development,  has  an 
equal  biological  significance  with  the  instincts  of  sex 
and  self-preservation,  and  that  we  can  no  more  afford 
to  ignore  the  higher  attributes  of  the  human  mind 
than  we  can  afford  to  deny  their  true  place  to  the 
primitive. 

Briefly,  the  primitive  man  lies  at  the  base  of  our 
being,  but  the  divine  man  stands  at  its  apex,  and  we, 
in  our  ascent,  are  in  a  transition  stage,  with  sub- 
conscious and  superconscious  not  yet  correlated  in 
the  conscious  mind.  We  do  not  see  our  past  and 
future  save  in  the  dim  pictures  of  dream  and  vision, 
by  the  uncertain  gleam  of  intuition  rather  than  the 
clear  light  of  reason,  and  no  solution  of  any  human 
problem,  either  social  or  psychological,  can  be  valid 
which  does  not  look  to  the  future  as  well  as  the 
past.  Hitherto  psychology  has  sought  its  standards 
of  normality  in  the  primitive  and  subhuman,  forget- 
ting that  the  flower  of  humanity  is  a  natural  prod- 
uct as  well  as  its  weeds;  that  religion,  charity  and 
idealism  are  as  much  a  part  of  human  nature  as  those 
primitive  instincts  which  give  rise  to  unnameable 
crimes.    A  psychology  which  looks  to  the  past  can 


96     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

show  us  causes,  but  it  is  only  a  psychology  which 
looks  to  the  future  which  can  find  us  cures.  Evo- 
lution did  not  cease  its  progress  when  it  produced 
the  cave  man  guarding  his  family,  but  evolved  the 
"  Save  the  Children  Fund,"  which  before  the  echoes 
of  the  last  shot  had  died  away  was  sending  succour 
to  the  helpless  young  of  an  enemy  herd. 

A  psychology  which  bases  its  philosophy  upon  a 
return  to  the  primitive,  especially  if  that  psychology 
undertakes  the  solution  of  human  problems,  individ- 
ual or  collective,  is  ignoring  the  data  of  evolution. 
We  know  that  all  life  originated  in  the  sea,  and  that 
the  young  of  many  species  still  pass  the  first  phase 
of  their  life  in  the  water.  When,  however,  they 
have  come  ashore,  and  the  gills  have  given  place 
to  lungs,  they  cease  to  be  water  creatures,  and  the 
structural  traces  of  their  origin  are  vestigial  and  not 
functional,  and  a  frog  can  be  drowned  as  easily  as 
any  other  air-breathing  creature,  despite  his  tadpole 
past.  So  it  is  with  the  human  psyche,  unquestion- 
ably it  has  passed  through  a  primitive  phase  in  the 
course  of  its  development,  but  if,  in  an  effort  to 
remedy  some  faulty  development,  it  be  thrust  back 
to  that  phase  after  evolving  to  a  higher  one,  it  will 
perish  as  surely  as  the  frog  thrust  under  water.  It 
should  be  the  aim  of  psychotherapy,  not  to  reduce 
the  mind  to  its  primitive  elements  and  point  of 
view,  but  rather  to  help  humanity  to  make  that 
transition  from  the  lower  to  the  higher  which  evo- 


THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND     97 

lution  is  forcing  upon  us,  whether  we  will  or  no. 
Adaptation  to  environment  is  the  key  to  life,  and 
the  environment  to  which  an  individual  must  be 
aided  to  adjust  himself,  if  such  aid  be  sought,  is 
not  that  environment  which,  generation  by  genera- 
tion, is  receding  further  into  the  past,  but  that  future 
which  hour  by  hour  is  becoming  the  present,  and 
from  which  there  is  no  escape. 

It  should  be  the  aim  of  psychotherapy  to  work 
out  the  arc  which  evolution  is  describing,  and  to 
set  the  feet  of  racial  wanderers  upon  its  path.  It 
is  a  futile  and  dangerous  philosophy  which  proposes 
a  return  to  the  past  as  an  escape  from  the  present. 

Geology,  zoology,  sociology,  and  comparative  psy- 
chology, all  show  us  the  evolution  of  that  which  is 
simple  into  that  which  is  complex,  from  the  cave 
man,  with  his  few  needs  and  problems,  to  the  com- 
plications of  a  modern  industrial  society.  And  we 
see  in  the  little  segment  of  the  evolutionary  arc 
with  which  we  are  most  closely  concerned  that  the 
chief  factor  is  the  herd  instinct  which  is  pressing  us 
all  the  time  towards  a  more  complete  socialisation  of 
humanity,  and  that  any  adaptation  which  an  indi- 
vidual makes  must  be  in  relation  to  his  integration 
as  a  social  unit  and  not  to  his  needs  as  a  solitary 
individual. 

Diagnostic  and  descriptive  psychology  must  be 
distinguished  from  remedial  psychology  of  which 
we  have  had  all  too  little.     Research  on  the  ab- 


98     THE  MACHINERY  OF  THE  MIND 

normal  mind  alone  will  not  give  us  the  key  to  a 
healthy  life,  we  must  study  social  psychology  as  well 
as  individual  psychology,  because  man  is  a  social  ani- 
mal, and  his  mental  processes  are  determined  by 
this  fact;  any  adaptation  he  makes,  and  adaptation 
is  the  basis  of  psychotherapy,  must  be  in  relation 
to  his  social  group  as  well  as  to  his  own  subconscious 
wishes;  it  is  not  enough  to  bring  these  wishes  into 
the  light  of  consciousness,  they  must  be  synthesised 
with  the  rest  of  the  personality,  to  the  social  organi- 
sation of  which  that  personality  is  a  unit,  and  to 
the  great  evolutionary  drift  of  which  even  the  race 
itself  is  but  a  partial  expression.  Psychotherapy 
may  begin  with  the  primitive,  but  it  must  end  with 
the  divine,  for  both  are  integral  factors  in  the  human 
mind. 


y. 


/^ 

b  ^ 


]■ 


& 


'^ 


